


Slay Ride

by ARtheBard



Series: JEmily Forever [13]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 23:34:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 35,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10797093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARtheBard/pseuds/ARtheBard
Summary: The team meets up with an old friend to solve a series of slayings in Seattle. But will an old flame reignite when JJ comes face to face with Elle?





	1. Chapter 1

Monday morning the BAU agents meet up at the airstrip at 6:30 a.m. By 7 they are in the air and all trying to get in a nap before they go over the case file. JJ is curled up against Emily’s side. For the first time since she had returned to work, she is not scared about leaving Henry behind. He is able to stay in his bed, with all that is familiar to him, with someone she had trusted upon first meeting.

Emily kisses JJ’s forehead, silently thanking her parents for their interference. For once it had worked out for the best. Francesca may be just what the young family needs to survive the long separations from Henry…and any other children that come along. Emily smiles as she imagines a little sister or brother for Henry. With that image in her mind, she closes her eyes, catching 40 winks before work will really begin.

At 9:30 a.m. Hotch reluctantly wakes his team to start the briefing. JJ moves to the front of the cabin to use the large TV screen on the wall. She brings up the first picture.

“Seattle, Washington. Someone is killing Santa Claus.”

“Well, that’s sure to get you on the naughty list,” Emily states dryly. The other agents chuckle as JJ rolls her eyes.

“Since Thursday they have had 1 killed each day and 3 others have been assaulted. The ones that lived all had one thing in common,” she brings up another picture. “Their beards were real. The unsub shaved that beard and told them that now they couldn’t lie to children any more.”

“So, wait a second,” Morgan interrupts. “He kills the ones with fake beards but only shaves off the beard of guys with facial hair? He obviously hates store Santa’s but what’s to stop those guys from just putting on a fake beard?”

Rossi glances at Morgan. “Would you go out and buy a beard after that?”

Morgan bobs his head a bit. “Probably not. But what I’m saying is he’s not necessarily stopping these guys from doing just that. What has he accomplished?”

“That remains to be seen,” Hotch states. “He’s left no clues at the scenes but the attacks are getting more violent, even against those that live.”

“With him using a knife, if he’s getting more violent he should eventually cut himself. That will at least give us some DNA,” Emily points out.

“Are we all thinking that this guy may have been abused by a store Santa at some time?” Rossi asks.

“That or he’s a disgruntled elf,” Hotch jokes. Everyone laughs.

“Cute, Aaron. But I’m wondering if he was abused why he wouldn’t go for genital mutilation on them, especially the dead ones,” Rossi questions.

“That’s a good question,” Morgan agrees.

“Jen, do we have a geographic area that he’s hitting?” Emily asks the liaison.

“That’s usually Reid’s thing but in looking at the reports they just all seem to be malls versus box stores. And all the men are ones that do the pictures with kids instead of being bell ringers or sign holders outside stores. Reid may be able to refine it more and he is planning to work on that first thing when he arrives,” she answers. She glances at Hotch, who nods. “Also, the chief has not informed his lead detectives that we are coming on board. He knows they would prefer to work it on their own, especially one of them.”

“That’s not unusual,” Emily states. “You’ll be able to smooth things over for us.”

JJ blushes. “Um, probably not this time.”

“Oh, shit!” Morgan blurts as he sees why. He looks up at her and Hotch. “Did you know she was there?”

Hotch shakes his head. “No. I was never contacted as a reference which isn’t surprising.”

Emily looks down at the form and pales as she reads the names of the two detectives. “Oh. This could be a bit uncomfortable.”

JJ nods, giving a half grin. “To say the least.”

Hotch looks at Rossi. “Dave, I feel that it may be best if you take the lead with the detectives. Given the past relationship some of us have with Elle Greenaway and the fact that Prentiss replaced her she may be more receptive to working with you.”

Rossi slowly nods his head. Like just about everyone at Quantico, he knew the story of how Elle had been attacked in her own home, nearly killed and had come back with deep scars in her psyche. To this day it’s debated around the water cooler if her final shooting as an FBI agent was justified or not. “I’ll do what I can, guys. But if the captain doesn’t get things smoothed out before we get there we could be in for a tough case inside and outside the precinct.”


	2. Chapter 2

“You did WHAT?” Elle Greenaway screams at her captain before she can censor herself.

“Look, Greenaway, I know you’ve got some sort of grudge against the Bureau for what they did to you but the BAU is trained to help with cases like this,” Max Abry tries to explain to his detective. “The guy is on a spree and—”

“I   _know_  he’s on a spree!” Elle starts to pace. She had been less than fully honest on her application to the force. She sighs and drops into a seat across from Abry’s desk. “Sir, I was with the BAU. I know what they know because I know it, too. We don’t need their help. I’ve got this.”

Abry stares at her for a moment, stunned by this revelation. “Your resume says nothing about the BAU.”

“It wasn’t exactly…something happened and…shit…I nearly died because my boss disobeyed an unsub and then sent me off alone. We never quite recovered a working relationship after that. I lost the ability to trust him. Any of them.” She sits forward in her seat. “Sir, send them away. I’ve got this guy. I swear.”

He looks down at his watch. “They’ll be here in less than an hour, Greenaway. I don’t give a damn about your past with them you   _will_   work with them. Or you can sit this case out. Your choice.”

Elle stares at the ceiling tiles. “Fucking great. I’ll be in the conference room, sir.”

She gets up and heads into the room her and her partner, Ralph Reus, had taken over until this killer is stopped. She is updating a crime board when she senses the change in the precinct. She turns and, as she expected, she sees the team from the BAU being greeted by Abry.

She first takes in the tall brunette. Emily Prentiss, the one that had replaced her. She’d lasted longer than Elle had. Maybe Hotch had learned not to screw over his agents.

She sees the man speaking with the captain and recognizes him as the legendary David Rossi. His books had inspired her to aim for the BAU. He had been retired and by all accounts wealthy. Why the hell would he be back at the BAU? Perhaps he’d been brought back to lead the team. Maybe Straus finally got Hotch demoted. She smiles slyly. It would serve the bastard right.

Just then, Rossi shifts. Behind him stands the woman that still haunts Elle’s dreams. Jennifer Jareau. Part of Elle hates her because she had always fought against their attraction to each other. Part of her is excited. JJ didn’t date co-workers. She’d made that clear the couple of times lust and emotions had nearly over-taken common sense. But Elle is no longer a co-worker. Maybe now they would have a chance to—shit…is that a wedding ring? No way. JJ didn’t believe in marriage. It couldn’t be.

“ _I’ll have to call an old friend at Quantico. Soon_ ,” Elle thinks to herself.

Suddenly Elle realizes the woman in question is staring directly at her. The entire team is moving towards her and the conference room. The only agent that doesn’t look slightly uncomfortable is Rossi. Elle straightens her shoulders. She would not be intimidated by them. This was her house, not theirs. This was her case, not theirs. This was her job because Aaron Hotchner had made it impossible for her to continue as an FBI agent. He wouldn’t take this job from her, too.

As Abry enters the room he looks back at Rossi. “Agent Rossi, Detective Elle Greenaway. Greenaway, I think you know everyone here but Rossi?”

Elle stares at Emily, forcing a smile to her face. “Uh, actually, we’ve never met either.” She extends her hand. “Elle Greenaway. I believe you have my old desk now.”

Emily shakes the hand offered, also forcing a smile. “Yes. Emily Prentiss.”

Elle pretends to think a moment. “Prentiss? Hmm…I know that name from…oh, wait, that’s right. Politics. Must be nice to have connections that can grease some wheels for you, help you get what you want. Most of us actually have to work for what we want.”

Emily stiffens but doesn’t say a word. The brunette women’s eyes are locked in a stare down…which Emily finally wins as Elle looks to Hotch, Morgan and JJ in turn.

“Agent Hotchner. Derek.” Her voice changes slightly, an inflection not missed by Emily. “JJ. Good to see you all again though I’m pretty sure you’ve wasted your time. As I explained to Captain Abry this morning you all aren’t any better than me at profiling. I really don’t need your help.”

“Greenaway, this isn’t up for debate,” Abry says, irritated by his detective. “You work with them or you take a few days off. Your choice.” He turns to Hotch. “If you need anything, let me know.”

Hotch nods and shakes his hand. “Thank you, Captain. Once we look over all the evidence we’ll start working up a preliminary profile.”

JJ looks at the captain. “Any chance I can speak with your media officer? I’d like to hear what the reporters are asking.”

“Of course. Come with me.”

JJ gives Emily a supportive wink and follows the captain off. The rest of the team follows Elle into the conference room. Hotch closes the door and for a long, uncomfortable minute there is silence.

“Detective Greenaway, we’re not here to step on your toes,” Rossi tells her. “You know how this team does things. All we care about is stopping the unsub before he kills more people.”

“Agent Rossi, I have a great deal of respect for you and what you accomplished in helping found the BAU. But I have little to no respect for the people around you.” She looks at Emily. “Not even you. I may not know you but I heard how you pulled strings to get into the department.”

“Then you heard wrong,” Emily states flatly. “I’ve earned my spot on this team through my work ethic. My parents had nothing to do with it.”

Elle laughs humorlessly. “You’re either delusional or the team is if they believe that shit. But regardless of how I feel I’m stuck with you all. So, here’s the evidence gathered so far. I have an appointment to speak to the latest assault victim in an hour. I’ll let you know how that goes.”

“Actually, Morgan will accompany you,” Hotch says.

“I don’t take orders from you anymore, Aaron,” she says, using his first name as a sign of disrespect.

“No, but he does. And I am saying he will accompany you.”

The two strong-willed people stare at each other. Finally Elle shrugs. “Whatever.” She looks at Morgan. “Be at the front doors in 45 minutes. Don’t be late.” She leaves the room, planning to make the call to her friend at the FBI before leaving with Morgan.

As the door closes behind her, Rossi turns to the team and smiles. “I’ve always loved Seattle. Friendly people, great weather. It’s going to be a  _peach_  of a trip.”

The others can’t help but chuckle at his sarcastic statement. As they start to go through the evidence boxes, Hotch sidles up beside Emily.

“Emily, what she said—”

“She’s full of shit, Hotch. I know. But thanks,” she replies gratefully. He smiles and gets back to work sifting through the evidence.

* * *

 

Elle leans against the wall outside the police spokeswoman’s office. From her vantage point she can stare at the back of Jennifer Jareau. The woman was still gorgeous. She’d heard JJ had given birth but she’d obviously worked hard to get rid of the baby weight. As JJ points to something on a piece of paper she holds, Elle gets a better look at the ring set gracing the liaison’s left hand.

“That’s one hell of a rock, Jayje,” Elle murmurs seeing the engagement ring. “Was that what finally convinced you to walk down the aisle?”

As JJ stands, the meeting over, Elle straightens up. She hurries down the hall to the bathroom, not sure she’s ready to speak to JJ just yet. She was still too angry that the BAU was even a part of her case. She has just finished splashing water on her face when the bathroom door opens…and JJ walks in. The blonde looks as startled as the brunette.

“Elle.”

Elle slowly turns and leans against the wall. “JJ.”

They stare at each other. JJ’s mind flashes back to when she first heard Elle had killed William Lee. In her heart she’d known the truth. But she had never said it out loud, only hinted at it when Reid had called it a “good shoot” on the jet on the way to the next case. The night they had gotten back from Ohio, JJ had asked Elle if she wanted to go get a drink, talk things over. Elle had refused. But she had come to visit a week later, after the Pennsylvania case; a week after her abrupt resignation. It had not gone well. JJ shakes her head to forget it.

“Nice ring,” Elle says.

JJ looks down at it, unconsciously drawing her thumb across the bands, drawing comfort from them. She manages a smile. “Thanks. Guess I was wrong about the whole marriage thing.”

“Seems like,” Elle agrees. “So, is it the baby daddy?”

JJ frowns. “How…how do you know about my son?”

Elle rolls her eyes, “Did you think every agent I knew turned their back on me? Nope, just my teammates did.”

JJ starts to speak, then stops to gather her thoughts. “We didn’t…turn our backs on you. You ran, Elle. What were we supposed to do? To think?”

“You should have  _backed_  me, JJ! Not a single damn one of you stepped up and said you supported me! None of you told me ‘good job’ for getting a rapist off the street.” She steps closer to JJ. “Maybe the guys I can understand…but I expected more from you.”

She pushes past JJ and leaves the bathroom, nearly running over Emily. She gives the agent a nasty look and keeps going. Emily walks in and sees JJ pale and shaking slightly. She races towards her.

“Jennifer! What happened?”

JJ turns and allows Emily to pull her into a hug. The liaison can’t speak, can’t tell her wife right now what’s got her so messed up inside. She looks up and meets concerned brown eyes. “Tonight? Can we just talk about it tonight?”

Emily nods. “Yes. Of course. Did she hurt you?”

“No. I hurt her.”


	3. Chapter 3

Emily stares into her wife’s eyes. “Jen, were you and she…did you two…”

JJ shakes her head. “No. Not exactly. It’s…complicated.” JJ rolls her eyes. “Shit, that’s what I said to Hotch when he asked. When did I lose the ability to make coherent explanations come out of my mouth.”

Emily strokes a hand down JJ’s cheek. “Sweetheart, something about Elle has you turned around inside. Put it aside for now and we can talk about it tonight, okay?” Emily smiles at her. “I’ll lend you one of my compartments for the day.”

JJ can’t help but laugh at the suggestion. She pulls Emily close. “Thank you. You always know what to say to me.”

Emily kisses her forehead. “Because I love you. Now, wash off your face and gather yourself together. Everything will be just fine.”

“So, were you in here looking for me?”

Emily blushes. “Noooo…I was in here because I’ve had 5 cups of coffee this morning.”

JJ bursts out laughing again. Even without trying, Emily can make JJ feel 100x better. “Well, don’t let me keep you.”

They exchange a quick kiss as Emily hurries into a stall. JJ washes off her face and heads out to let Hotch know she will be the media point person for the case. As she reaches him she sees his shoulders slump as he talks to a man she hasn’t seen before. Hotch turns as she walks into the conference room.

“SSA Jennifer Jareau meet Detective Ralph Reus, Greenaway’s partner. There’s been another murder.”

JJ sighs and heads back to the media office. It won’t be long until the phones light up with questions about the ‘Santa Slayer’ as the media is already calling him.

* * *

 

On their way to interview the latest victim, Morgan gets the call about the newest murder. He shakes his head.

“Another one dead,” he tells Elle.

“Reus will take care of the scene. We need to interview this guy while the information is fresh in his head,” Elle tells Morgan unnecessarily.

“Right. Just letting you know.” They ride in silence for a few minutes.

“So, who’d JJ marry?”

Morgan stares out the window, uncomfortable with the question. “You should ask her. I don’t talk about the private lives of the team.”

“I see. What’s it like working with the legendary David Rossi?”

Morgan chuckles. “Not too bad. I’ve learned a lot from him. And I think he’s learned a lot from us, too.”

“Huh. Did he teach you not to abandon your teammates or are you still working on that?”

Morgan turns to her, his face a mask of anger. “ _We_ didn’t abandon you. _You’re_ the one that confronted William Lee without us. _You’re_ the one who ran in the aftermath of the shooting. _You’re_ the one that didn’t say a damn thing to any of us about it. Don’t go laying your screw-ups on us.”

Elle’s face colors with anger but she doesn’t respond. She hadn’t expected an apology from Morgan. She expects nothing from any of them. If they help solve the case, fine. In fact the sooner the better so they can get the hell out of Seattle and she can get back to life as she knows it now.

The only one she really wants any closure with is JJ, and it seemed like she had thrown a wrench into trying to get that by losing her cool earlier. But there was still time. JJ hadn’t admitted to being married to Emily Prentiss. Maybe she was protecting Prentiss or maybe there was trouble in paradise. Either way, Elle hoped to find out soon if any of the feelings they had once shared still remained.


	4. Chapter 4

Prentiss caught a ride with Reus to the latest murder scene. He seems like a nice guy and pretty happy to have extra help on the case. He knew none of them would get much sleep as quickly as this guy was striking. The sooner they caught him the better all around.

“How long have you been a cop?” Prentiss asks.

“Better side of 20 years if you count my time as an MP.”

She smiles and nods. “I most definitely would. Marines?”

“How’d you know?”

“Haircut.”

He laughs and runs a hand through what little hair is on his head. “Guess that’s part of the whole profiler, thing, eh?”

She nods. “Yep.” She bites her lip a minute then goes ahead and asks the question bothering her. “What’s it like working with Greenaway? Is she always so…rude when help is being offered?”

He sighs. “I won’t pretend you don’t know she was once on your team. Normally she’s okay with task forces, has even led a few due to her time at the FBI. I think having your team called in has just thrown her for a loop.” He looks at Emily briefly. “She’ll come around once she gets her feet back under her.”

“I hope so,” Emily replies, thinking about the shaken look in JJ’s eyes.

When they arrive on the scene, they show their badges to the officers guarding the site and head towards the body. This former Santa lies in an alley behind a toy store of all places. His once white beard is burgundy with the blood that had gushed from his slit throat. Emily stares at him from several angles before squatting near his head. She uses her pen to ease the beard enough away to see the death gash. She sighs and stands.

“He’s getting better. No immediate signs of hesitation. Looks like a clean slice this time. Granted, the beard is still hiding a lot but I’d say our unsub is progressing.”

“That’s not good, is it?” Reus asks rhetorically.

She looks at the building. “Where were the other Santa’s found?”

Reus checks his PDA. “Thursday: a petting zoo parking lot. Friday: local outdoor ice rink drainage area. Saturday: Candy store alley. Sunday: UPS store loading dock. And now today the back alley of a toy store.”

Emily raises an eyebrow. “Can we assume the petting zoo has reindeer?”

“I can make a call. Why?”

“This guy isn’t just targeting Santa, he’s targeting Christmas in general. Toys, ice skating, candy, packages…all things associated with Christmas time.” She pulls out her phone and hits a button. “Hotch? I think there’s more we can add to the profile and for Garcia to use in her searches.”

Reus lets Emily talk and takes the time to walk the scene. A bit of graffiti catches his eye. He walks over and looks at it. Pulling out his PDA he starts to flip through some pictures from previous crime scenes. His eyes widen.

“Holy shit…he’s been taking to us.” He spins around. “Prentiss! Come here!”

Emily disconnects with Hotch and jogs over to Reus. “What?”

“Hotch said earlier this guy is on a mission, he’s going to try to contact us to justify what he’s doing?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s   _already_  talking to us. Look!”

He points to the graffiti on the wall. Emily stares at it a moment, then shrugs. “I don’t get it.”

He hands her his PDA. “Flip through the three pictures I’ve tagged.”

She does. Her eyes see what he’s seeing. She looks back to the wall. It has to be the same man. The stylization is the same. But the meaning behind the pictures is as yet an enigma.

“Take a picture of this one. Then send all of those to our analyst. We need to know if this guy has hit before. Plus she can put these things into one of her programs to see if their meaning can be deduced.”

He nods and does as directed. Emily keeps staring at the pictogram, trying to get it to make sense. She finally shakes her head. Maybe by putting them together they can start to see the meaning emerge. She pulls out her phone again.

“Reid? You at the precinct yet? Okay, well when you finish your geographic profile, get with Garcia. This guy’s been tagging his scenes. I feel like I should see something in the images he sent. Our minds are scary alike sometimes. Maybe you’ll see what I’m missing.” She listens a moment then chuckles. “Yes, just like a Vulcan mind meld. But don’t you dare tell Jen.”

She smiles as she hangs up. She walks back over to Reus. “Mind a trip to the morgue? I’d like to get a look at the bodies they still have.”

“Whatever floats your boat, Agent,” he answers amiably.

* * *

 

As Garcia gets Emily’s graffiti search going, another search ends. She grimaces, knowing it contains too many hits to be helpful. Hopefully someone can help her narrow the parameters a bit. She dials Hotch.

“What do you have, Garcia?”

“A scary big bunch of names. You don’t want to know how many kids were abused by Santa Claus. Do you all have anything more that can help me narrow this list—uh, hold on another search just ended.” Hotch hears her tapping the keys and then hears the stunned intake of breath. “Oh my God. Um, Hotch, I think this guy killed before. Only that time, it was clowns.”

“Clowns? In Seattle?”

“No. San Diego. Hold on let me just…yep, there it is. Fifteen clowns killed in a two month period last summer. Another 10 assaulted. And I’m looking at the crime scene pics for two of the deaths and I see the graffiti.”

“Graffiti? What graffiti?” Garcia fills him in on Reus’ find. “In fact, adding the graffiti to the search helped flag these cases. One of the detectives down there noticed the tags where each body was found and noted them.”

“Good job, Garcia. Send us everything you have on the San Diego case. Keep searching for like crimes. Oh, and, Garcia, take a cookie out of the jar for a job well done,” he says with a grin.

She smiles proudly. “Thank you, Sir. One Hotchlate chip cookie coming up!”

He laughs and shakes his head as he hangs up the phone. “Reid, I may need you and Morgan to head to San Diego. Garcia is sending the info now.”

“Okay. But first come look at this, Hotch.” Hotch walks over to the map with Reid’s geographic profile on it. “Do you see the pattern emerging here?”

Hotch stares at the dots. Red for deaths. Blue for assaults. Yellow marking where the Santa’s worked. Finally he shakes his head. “I’m not seeing it, Reid.”

Reid starts to connect the dots with a green marker: yellow to red to yellow to blue in order of the attacks. Suddenly Hotch’s mind puts it together. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The pattern is starting to resemble a Christmas tree. And the tree is nearly complete. “We need to get a map of San Diego,” Hotch states. Reid just nods.

* * *

 

“Mr. Callahan? I’m Detective Elle Greenaway. This is Agent Derek Morgan. We’d like to ask you a few questions about the man that attacked you.”

The man looks down. “Not sure what more I could tell you. I told the cops everything I could remember.”

“Sir, I’m with the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI. We ask different kinds of questions,” Morgan explains. “Sometimes they can elicit answers or evoke memories to give us more information.”

Callahan studies the two law enforcement officers. Finally he shrugs. “Whatever.” He opens his door further and allows them to enter his home. Morgan looks around, profiling the man by his decorations, or lack there of. This was not a man with money. His furniture was threadbare and falling apart. His collection of empty beer cans, however, was impressive.

He doesn’t offer the officers a seat, plopping down on the couch and opening another beer. Elle and Morgan exchange a look. Elle swallows her revulsion and sits down on the edge of the armchair.

“Mr. Callahan, I need you to think about what you were doing just before you were attacked.”

“I was catching a smoke,” he blurts out. He looks at Morgan. “Didn’t she read the damn report?”

“Yes, sir, she did. She just needs to start at the beginning and walk you through everything once more,” he explains.

Elle rolls her eyes and begins again. “Sir, just before you were attacked you were smoking. Did you hear anything while you were standing there?”

He thinks a moment, then shakes his head. He takes another swig of beer. Elle knows she better hurry with the questions or he may be too drunk to answer correctly. “Okay. Did you smell anything unusual?”

“Detective, I was by the dumpsters. I smelled a lot of shit that was unusual.”

Elle’s shoulders slump. “Of course.” She looks at Morgan, offering him the chance to try to get something out of the man.

Morgan steps in front of Callahan. “Did you go to the same place for your break every time?”

“Yeah. It was the closest place to the Santa Village.”

“Had you noticed anyone strange either inside near the exit you used or around the area outside?”

“Nah. I kinda ignored people if I could. If you had parents yelling at you and kids screaming and peeing and smacking you all day, you’d ignore people, too.”

Morgan chuckles. “I think you’re right. When you were attacked, what was the first thing your assailant said to you?”

“He said, ‘You won’t lie to any more kids.’ Then he grabbed my beard,” the man rubs his now clean shaven chin. “Fucker said, ‘At least this isn’t a lie’ and I was getting ready to tell him to screw off when he started clubbing me with one of them things cops carry.”

“A nightstick?” Elle confirms.

“Yeah. When I woke up my beard was gone. I called the cops ‘cause he beat me pretty good. Figure I might have a good chance at suing the mall for their lack of security.”

Morgan fights the urge to roll his eyes. This guy is just looking for a payday. “Is there anything else he may have said or did or wore that sticks out for you?”

Callahan shrugs his shoulders disinterestedly. “Nope. He just…wait a minute…he had a black eye. I remember thinking it served the bastard right.”

“Okay. That could be helpful, Mr. Callahan. If you think of anything else that could help us find this guy, please give us a call,” Elle states, handing him her business card.

“You think I could get a copy of your reports on all this? Might help my lawsuit.”

“Your lawyer will take care of that,” Elle says with disgust.

She and Morgan leave the house rather quickly. The follow up interview had been mostly a bust. “At least we can add the black eye to the profile released to the news. Other than that Callahan was a complete bust,” Elle gripes.

“Yeah,” Morgan agrees. “Were the other living victims any help?”

“Not really. They all pretty much had the same situation. Went out for a smoke or just to get away from people. Basically ignored someone approaching them because they were tired of dealing with parents.”

“So this guy appears unthreatening. Until they are hit they have no trepidation, no instinctual worry. He’s not angry until he starts the beating. That’s some major control of his emotions. Most people can sense when someone is angry or intending to do harm. The old fight or flight reflexes kick in. But he hides his intentions and his emotions so well, keeps them so cloaked no one has a chance to feel fear until too late.”

“That’s one controlled sociopath,” Elle notes.

Morgan nods. “We need to get back to the station. We may be close to being able to complete the profile.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashback in bold.

Emily stares at the body on the autopsy table. The man had put up a fight but probably didn’t have much fight in him. His ribs show through his skin, which has a decidedly yellow tint to it. The smell of alcohol still leaches from his body. If the unsub hadn’t killed him, cirrhosis would have sooner rather than later.

She leans in close, studying the bruising patterns. She frowns, seeing two different sorts of marks. She had asked the medical examiner if she could see the body without reading his report or hearing his opinions first. Now, she has a few questions.

“These bruises, am I seeing two different weapons?”

“Yes. The first is cylindrical,” he points to one particular bruise. “I’m guessing it was the initial take down blow since it’s along his temple. The man was hit several more times with that and then these bruises,” he gestures to some along the kidneys and legs, “look to be from being kicked, mostly likely while he was curled in the fetal position on the ground after being taken from the abduction site.”

“Why do you think those came later?”

“The stages of bruising differs from the initial hits to what I believe are kicks. I’d say it was about an hour between each set.”

“An hour?” She pictures the map in her head. It would take maybe 15 minutes to get from the mall to the UPS store. “That’s too long. What the hell was he doing during that time?”

The M.E. shakes his head. “Can’t help you with that one, I’m afraid. But I saw the same variations in the bruising on each victim.”

She smiles. “Right. Asking myself that one.” She stares at the final death blow, the gash across the man’s neck. It showed slight hesitation marks at the beginning of it. “Do all the cuts start out with hesitation marks?”

“Yes. But I think I can show you why.” He shows Emily a small piece of skin near the start of the gash. “Do you see that mark?” She nods. “It’s ink. I found it on the other bodies, too. And look here,” he gestures to a spot midway through the gash. “More ink. I think he may have used a pen to mark where he wanted to cut.”

Emily looks up, horrified. “You mean…he was tracing a pattern on these men? Following the line to complete the kill?”

“It’s only speculation but I think so,” he confirms.

Emily starts to pace. “He beats them, keeps them for a while, draws a line across their necks, beats them some more, then kills them.”

Reus had been standing silently, letting the agent work and think. He steps forward. “He’s told the ones that lived that they can’t lie to kids anymore. Maybe he’s making the ones he kills confess their sins?”

Emily shrugs. “Could be. As controlled as he is, as meticulous, I don’t think he was just driving along trying to find a dump site that could be related somehow to Christmas. You know, maybe the tagging is what’s delaying the beating. He has to paint his picture…no, no I bet he had that already done.”

“Why?” Reus asks.

“Think about it, if you have a beaten up Santa in your vehicle would you want to take the time to paint a picture and risk being found? You graffiti the scene first and then you just get a ticket for tagging the building. No big deal,” she explains. “Reus, see if you can find any tickets written for tagging since the week before Thanksgiving. This may be a long lot but if we can maybe find one this guy got caught making we could have a picture of him from the squad car’s dash cam.”

Excited, Reus pulls out his phone to get the search started. Emily glances once more at the dead man.

“Is there anything else about this or any of the victims you think I should know, Doctor?”

The M.E. shakes his head. “Not that I can think of. I have a team out now picking up the latest victim. Once I’m done with him I’ll give you a call.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Emily and Reus leave, both hoping the body coming in will be the last one for this unsub.

* * *

 

Elle stands off to the side of the building watching JJ address the media gathered on the front steps. She was always controlled, always amazing and seems to only have gotten better with time. Elle feels a familiar stirring in her stomach and tries to will it away.

“She’s married now, Elle. Game over for you. But maybe not…you left…maybe if you had stayed things could have worked out.”

She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “Stop it, Greenaway. She turned on you just like the others. Never even said goodbye to you. Never even spoke to you after leaving the jet after the Ohio case.”

But her mind flashes back to the time they had spoken and so much more. Elle had been held hostage on a train by a severely schizophrenic man. When he had found out she was an FBI agent she had been sure she was going to die. But that time, that  _one time_ , the team had come through for her. She tried to maintain that she was okay but JJ had seen through the charade. Maybe the others had, too, but it was JJ who insisted on taking Elle out for a drink once they got back to Virginia.

* * *

 

**“One drink, Elle. You can’t tell me you don’t need it,” JJ insists with her 1000 watt smile on full.**

**Elle chuckles. “Okay. Maybe one drink.” She glances around and then whispers. “Or maybe one bottle of tequila.”**

**JJ laughs and hooks her arm through Elle’s, leading the way to her car. “I’ll drive so if you want to get sloppy drunk you can. I’ll bring you back for your car tomorrow.”**

**“Good idea,” Elle nods. “Or, you don’t live far, why not drop the cars at your place and take a cab? That way you can keep up with me.”**

**JJ nods. “Brilliant idea, Agent Greenaway. That must be why they pay you the big bucks.”**

**Elle chortles. “Big bucks…yeah, right. You do know I work for the government, right?”**

**A couple hours later they have shared two bottles of wine and a few appetizers. They have talked about their childhood, their exes, and their hopes for the future. They have just ordered their third bottle when they both reach for the last potato skin. Their hands touch and Elle feels the spark immediately. She looks up into cobalt eyes.**

**“Uh…split it?” she asks, suddenly nervous.**

**JJ’s eyes darken a bit, “Sure.”**

**It is all Elle can do to pull her eyes away from JJ’s. She takes a knife and slices the skin in half. JJ lifts up her half and holds it as if for a toast.**

**“To good friends.”**

**Elle can’t resist. She taps her half against JJ’s. “And maybe more,” she says with a suggestive lift of her eyebrow.**

**Their eye-lock is interrupted by the arrival of their wine. By the time they get back at JJ’s, they are both feeling very tipsy. As they walk through the door, JJ trips over a pair of boots just inside. Elle tries to catch her and they end up in a heap on the ground, laughing.**

**“Oops,” JJ says.**

**Elle laughs. “And here I was jealous of how graceful you are. It’s all a lie!” she teases.**

**“Not a lie! A carefully constructed façade,” JJ insists.**

**They stare into each other’s eyes. Suddenly things don’t seem as funny. Elle reaches over and lifts a lock of hair off of JJ’s forehead.**

**“You’re beautiful, JJ,” she whispers. Before the blonde can reply, the brunette leans over and starts to kiss her. Tentatively at first until she feels more than hears the moan from JJ. Elle’s tongue asks entrance into JJ’s mouth and it’s granted. For a few minutes they get lost in the sensation of their tongues dueling for dominance.**

**Elle starts to run her hand up JJ’s side from her hip to her chest. As she cups the perfect breast at the end of her trek, JJ suddenly pulls away.**

**“Whoa! Wait!” JJ scoots across the floor, putting distance between herself and Elle. Suddenly, JJ is stone cold sober. “Elle, I’m sorry. I can’t. We can’t. I’m sorry.”**

**“JJ, surely you know this isn’t the wine making me act out. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time now. And I think you’ve wanted to kiss me, too,” Elle implores.**

**JJ pushes to her feet. “Elle, not only do we work together at the FBI but we’re on the same team. We can’t. I don’t want to lose my job. I’m sorry. I just won’t date a co-worker or…or do anything else with them that could jeopardize my career. I’m sorry.”**

**Elle stands and leans against the wall. “JJ, there are ways around the rules.”**

**“Not for me,” JJ insists.**

**“Well, that was a hell of a buzz kill. I guess I should head home.”**

**“No. Just…stay in the spare bedroom tonight. You’ve had too much to drink.”**

**Elle stares at JJ, wishing there was a way to change the woman’s mind. If she was to stay here, it would not be in the spare bedroom. “I’ll see you Monday.”**

**Elle turns to leave. She pauses a moment to see if JJ will ask her again to stay, will offer what she knows Elle wants. But the media liaison is silent. Elle opens the door and heads out into the night.**

* * *

 

Elle’s attention is brought back to the present day as she sees the press conference start to break up. She shakes her head to clear it and heads back inside the station. She runs into JJ in the lobby.

“Nice job, JJ. I see you haven’t lost your touch with the press,” she says sincerely.

JJ smiles. “Thank you. It’s almost scary how much easier it gets. Either I’m good or jaded. I haven’t figured out which yet.”

Elle looks at her with admiration. “You’re good, JJ. Always were.”

Emily and Reus enter the station in time to see Elle pat JJ’s arm and head towards the conference room. Emily scans her wife’s face and notices no tension or apprehension. The profiler sighs. Maybe things were okay now that the shock had worn off for everyone.

Emily enters the conference room in time to hear Hotch finish his orders.

“…and Reid go to San Diego. Talk to the eyewitnesses and the officers again. We have more insight into this guy because of this case. Maybe we can help them as they help us dial in on this guy.”

“San Diego?” Emily asks.

“Thanks to your graffiti tip, Garcia found a like series of murders. Only this time clowns,” Hotch explains.

“Clowns? And now Santa Claus? This guy’s childhood must have really sucked,” Emily states.

Everyone hears the gasp from Reid. They turn to look at him. He is standing ramrod straight, he eyes turned inside himself suddenly he snaps out of it and looks at Hotch. “That’s it! That’s why there’s no mutilation to the genitals! He wasn’t abused by Santa or by a Clown. He was lied to! That’s what he keeps saying he’s stopping, not abuse. Lies!”

Emily starts to nod her head. “I see what you’re saying. The lies were so bad he blames them for whatever has his life screwed up. He thinks he’s protecting kids from having their dreams dashed.”

“Exactly!” Reid says excitedly.

“Wow, that’s pretty damn twisted. And even worse, it makes sense,” Morgan states.

Rossi shakes his head. “I don’t know. It’s almost too simple.”

“If it’s so simple why didn’t we think of it sooner?” Reid points out.

No one has an answer to that one.


	6. Chapter 6

While the profilers finish up what they can for the night, JJ heads to the bathroom. As she is getting ready to leave, Elle walks in. JJ grins.

“We have to stop meeting like this.”

“Right. People may talk,” Elle jokes.

“Yeah.” They stand there a moment, both feeling the awkwardness of the situation. Finally JJ steps towards the door. “Well, I better see if they’re- -”

“Does she hit you?” Elle interrupts to ask.

JJ is shocked. “What? Who?”

“Prentiss. Look, I called an old friend. I know you married Prentiss after your baby daddy dumped you. And maybe others can’t tell but I can tell your nose has been recently broken and not properly set. Only reason I can guess is you didn’t want a medical report written up about it.”

JJ is so angry she doesn’t know where to start. “First of all, Will didn’t dump me. Not that it’s any of your damn business, but we just didn’t work out. He is still very much in Henry’s life and in our life. He and Emily are even good friends. Secondly, and you best remember this Greenaway, Emily   _has never_   and  _would never_ raise a hand against me. She’s not you!”

Elle steps towards JJ. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You should know.”

“All I know is that I still want to kiss you. I still want to be the one you wake up to every day.”

Elle stands uncomfortably close to JJ. The liaison is backed up against the wall, hating the tremor of fear that courses through her.

“Back off, Elle.”

“Why, JJ? We don’t work together any more,” she places her hands on the wall on either side of JJ’s shoulders. “We could finally have the fun we never did before.”

JJ stares into her eyes, refusing to be cowed by the woman. “One, I’m married now. And nothing would ever make me cheat on my wife. And two…don’t think I’ve forgotten that last time I saw you I thought you were going to rape me.”

Elle glares at her a moment then takes a step back. JJ refuses to break eye contact, to give her any extra control.

“No. I never—” she starts to deny but JJ interrupts her.

“You were drunk, you pinned me to a wall, you refused to accept my ‘No’ until you ripped my blouse and I punched you. What the hell would you call it?”

Elle stares at JJ. She didn’t recall that meeting. Could she have really done that? Sure there were a few nights after she resigned that she drank herself into oblivion but she wouldn’t have hurt JJ. Would she? She needs to think, to try to remember. “This isn’t over, JJ.”

“It better be, Elle. Because if Emily ever finds out what you did to me and what you’re trying to do to me now, you’ll find out just how dangerous she can be.”

JJ steps around the former agent and leaves the restroom, hoping the fear doesn’t show on her face as much as she thinks it does.

Elle stares at herself in the mirror for a moment, then follows JJ out of the bathroom. She needed a drink. A big one.

* * *

 

In the conference room, the rest of the team is getting ready to call it a night. The next morning Reid and Morgan would head to San Diego to look into those crimes, armed with the information they had from Seattle. Hopefully a link will be found to help them refine their search for their murderer. Garcia had created a program to try to make sense of the pictograms, whose meaning still eluded the human minds.

As Emily slides a folder into her briefcase she sees a flustered JJ rush through the precinct and out the front doors. Her eyes narrow as she sees Elle, also agitated, follow. She doesn’t say a word as she grabs her briefcase and hurries from the room. The look on her face is murderous.

“Prentiss? What’s wrong? Prentiss!” Hotch calls after her but the profiler doesn’t answer. Hotch has a bad feeling and goes after her.

As Emily exits the station she glances in several directions. She sees Elle getting into an unmarked car and leaving. Emily’s lip curls in anger. Something tells her she’d need to have a talk with her predecessor. Soon.

She looks around again, trying to locate JJ. Hotch is suddenly beside her.

“Prentiss, what’s going on?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Look, can the guys catch a ride with you? I think Jen needs to talk and I don’t think she’s going to want to be profiled, even inadvertently.”

Hotch nods and hands her a set of keys. “Of course. And, Emily, if she needs anything, or you do, call me.”

She smiles and squeezes his arm. “Thanks. I will.”

She heads down towards the team SUV’s. As she expected, JJ is leaning against the back of one. She pulls her into a hug.

“Come on, baby. Let’s get to the hotel, call Henry, and then order in some dinner. Okay?”

JJ just nods and lets Emily help her into the Tahoe. Once in the driver’s seat, Emily takes JJ’s hand in hers and just holds it the entire ride. No words need be spoken yet. Right now JJ just needs to know that Emily is there for her no matter what. Once they are in their hotel room, Emily pulls her phone and hits speed dial 1. With a smile, she hands the phone to JJ.

JJ smiles as she hears Francesca answer. “Francesca? It’s Jennifer. Is Henry still awake? Great! I need to hear his giggles. I just…really need to hear him.”

Francesca can hear the pain in JJ’s voice. She puts the phone on speaker and lifts Henry out of his playpen. “Mommy is here, Henry. Can you say hi to Mommy?”

Emily wraps her arms around JJ from behind, hearing the little boy giggle and babble excitedly. She kisses JJ on the side of her head.

“Hey, Little Man. Sounds like you’re having a good time with Francesca. Not even missing Mommy and Mama at all.”

Francesca chuckles. “Oh, he misses you two very much. But he is very proud of his Mommies, aren’t you, Henry.” He claps his hands. JJ’s heart melts. “That’s right Henry clap for Mommy and Mama.”

JJ wipes the tear that had slipped from her eyes. “I love you, Henry. I miss you, baby boy.”

“He loves you, too, Jennifer. He knows you will be home soon,” the woman says kindly.

“We will. I promise. Thank you, Francesca. You don’t know how much it means to me to have you with him,” JJ tells their new nanny.

“He is a good little boy. Though I see the same glint of mischief in his eyes young Emily had. We’ll need to keep an eye on him,” she teases.

“Hey, now, Francesca, no telling stories on me. You’ll scare Jen away,” Emily scolds with a laugh.

“Not a chance,” JJ states, kissing Emily on the cheek. “Well, Francesca, I guess we should go so he can get to bed. Thanks for keeping him up for us.”

“No problem, Jennifer. We’ll just take an extra nap tomorrow, won’t we Henry?” The boy giggles again. “You girls be careful. Come home soon and safe.”

“We’ll do our best, Francesca,” Emily promises. “Goodnight, Champ!” Henry babbles again. “I’ll take that as a ‘goodnight, Mama’. Goodnight, Francesca.”

JJ chuckles. “Goodnight, Henry. Night, Francesca.”

“Goodnight, my girls.”

As the call ends JJ leans her head back onto Emily’s shoulders. “Any chance you can order dinner while I shower?”

Emily hugs her tightly. “Of course. What would you like?”

JJ rubs Emily’s hands. “The comfort special.”

Emily nods. “Burger, fries and a shake coming up.” She turns JJ around to look into her eyes. “And when you’re ready to talk, I’m here for you. And if you need me to speak to Greenaway, I will.”

JJ kisses Emily. “I don’t. Not yet at least.”

JJ grabs her toiletries bag and heads in to shower. She takes her time in the steam, thinking back to the times she had almost crossed a line with Elle. JJ actually feels guilty about each of those instances. For Elle, the feelings had been real. For JJ it was usually just a reaction to stress, maybe just general horniness. She had never really had feelings for Elle. But instead of just admitting that, she had given Elle the line about not dating other agents. And there was a time JJ had actually believed that she would never cross that particular line.

Then Emily Prentiss had shown up and blew apart all of JJ’s carefully constructed rules of personal relationships at work. That had to be a smack in the face for Elle. And she had seemed shocked about the meeting that had terrified JJ. Maybe the detective really didn’t remember attacking the liaison. But it had happened and it was the reason JJ had never reached out to Elle after the woman resigned; had never returned the calls placed to her. Truth was, JJ knew if Elle had done it once, she could do it again…and that scared JJ.

She leans her head against the shower wall. “ _God, if I tell Em, she’ll destroy Elle. She’ll beat her and she’ll make sure she loses her badge. What the hell do I do_?”

She finally gets out of the shower. She can smell that dinner had arrived and her stomach growls. It dawns on JJ she hadn’t eaten all day. She imagines no one on the team had. Cases were stressful enough without the added stress of working with Elle. This case was going to leave a mark on them all.

She walks out of the bathroom wearing only a towel. Emily raises an eyebrow.

“What’s the towel for? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you naked once or twice. I mean, it was you on that private beach, right?” she teases her wife.

JJ chuckles, realizing it was silly to wrap up. She takes off the towel and throws it at Emily. “Maybe I just wanted to make sure you let me eat dinner. It’s your fault now if you can’t concentrate on eating your own.”

Emily’s eyes had darkened with desire the moment JJ had exited the bathroom. Seeing her wife’s golden skin flushed from the heat of the water made Emily think of other reasons it gets flushed. And now the minor striptease has left Emily very wet and very uncomfortable.

“Damn, Jen. Do you know what you do to me?” Emily husks out.

JJ smiles and nods. “Yes. But I’m eating first so rein it in, Prentiss.”

“Easy for you to say. Maybe I need to make this a fair game.” She lifts off her shirt and removes her bra. She sees JJ’s eyes turn indigo. “Good. I’d say you’re as turned on as me. Let’s eat.”

JJ lets out a breath and shakes her head. “We’re a couple of twisted sisters, you know that right?”

Emily laughs. “Yep. That’s why we go so well together.”

Once dinner is done, Emily takes a quick shower. When she comes out she finds JJ in bed, staring at her phone.

“Another body?”

JJ looks up. “What? Oh, no. Just got a text message.” She pauses. “From Elle.”

Emily raises an eyebrow and leans against the dresser. “Jen, I don’t want to come across as a possessive asshole but do I need to speak with her? Set her straight? It’s obvious that more than once she’s upset you.”

JJ closes her eyes and leans back against the headboard. “No. Not yet. Let me speak to her first. Please?”

Emily slowly nods. “Okay. So are you at least going to tell me why your relationship with her is ‘complicated’?”

JJ rubs the heels of her hands into her eyes. “I…we were…ugh…come on, JJ, get your head together,” she mutters to herself. She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “She wanted more from me than I was willing to give. At the time I truly never thought I’d date another agent. I really didn’t, Em.” She finally looks Emily in the eye. “You are the only one I was ever willing to risk my job over.”

Emily gives her an encouraging smile. She moves to the bed and sits on the edge, taking JJ’s hand, offering silent support for a story obviously hard for her wife to tell.

“But Elle had a crush on me. I knew it for a while. And one night, after a tough case, we went out for drinks. I’d been single a while so you know how it is…things build up and…well…”

“You were horny,” Emily finishes for her wife.

JJ blushes. “Yes. I suddenly wondered what it would be like to just have sex with Elle and get rid of the hormones. I nearly let it happen but then I stopped. I couldn’t lead her on that way. I respected her too much. And then…after she killed Lee…really before that. After she was attacked and almost killed by Randall Garner she changed. She was darker, drinking more, damaged. And then she panicked and got Lee released for lack of evidence. Then…she killed him.” She stares into Emily’s eyes. “I know as sure as I’m sitting here that she stalked him and killed him in cold blood, Emily. I can’t prove it but I know it. We all do.”

JJ pulls her hand away from Emily’s. She crosses her arms over her chest defensively, no longer willing to look Emily in the eye. “Shit…I shouldn’t even tell you this. It doesn’t really matter. I mean nothing really happened. I stopped her before she could. It was just—”

“Holy fuck! Jen, did she…did she  _rape_   you?” Emily asks, fury turning her eyes black.

JJ jumps at the anger in her wife’s voice. “NO! God, no, Em! I swear! She just…I thought she might…but then I punched her. Shit!” JJ takes another deep breath, trying to sort her thoughts into a coherent statement. “It was after she resigned. She came by my place drunk. I don’t think she really knew where she was. She kept saying we could be together now. I told her to leave. She…she pushed me up against the wall.” JJ shudders at the memory. “She was so damn strong! She tried to kiss me but I turned my face. She grabbed my collar and ripped my shirt open, saying she was glad I liked it rough. So I punched her. Hard. I then shoved her away from me. I had told her no several times but it wasn’t until I punched her that it seemed to click in her head that I meant it. She cussed at me, said I must be fucking Hotch since I was taking his side. Then she left.”

Emily is shaking, trying to control the rage rushing through her like a lava flow. She stands and begins to pace. When she speaks her voice is deceptively calm. “Did you report it?”

“No. She didn’t work for the FBI anymore so who would I have told?”

“The fucking police, Jen!” Emily explodes. “She attempted to rape you! And don’t you dare say she didn’t. You  _know_  she did! And now she’s a damn cop again? Fuck that! I’ll kick her ass myself for hurting you, for even fucking  _touching_   you!”

JJ leaps out of the bed and grabs Emily. “No! I didn’t tell you this so you can race off like some sort of knight in shining armor to protect me. I don’t need that! Damn it, Emily…I just need…I need…” JJ bursts into tears, hating the weakness she feels. “I just need you to hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay. That I’m not less in your eyes now that you know. Please just tell me that.”

Emily stares at her wife. She takes a deep breath and pulls her close. “God, Jen, you are not less in my eyes. You couldn’t be. Ever. What happened wasn’t your fault. We both know that. I love you, Jennifer Prentiss.” She kisses the side of her head, her hands rubbing JJ’s back. “Everything is going to be okay. Just stay away from her, Jen. I don’t trust her. And she’s got you on edge which you know could dull your reflexes a bit.”

“I’ll stay away as much as I can. Or at least try to be with others when I’m around her. I promise. Now you promise me you’re not going to let Hotch send you out alone with her. Tell him you can’t do it. I don’t…I don’t want you tell him the whole reason why but enough to make him understand that you two together could get ugly.”

Emily stokes a hand through JJ’s hair. “I promise. But if she hurts you again I can’t be held responsible for my reaction. I love you and I will always protect you. Just as I know you would always protect me.”

JJ nods. “Always.”

After a few minutes, Emily leans back and looks into JJ’s eyes. “Let’s get some sleep, sweetheart. It’s going to be another long day tomorrow and we’re still on East Coast time.” She smiles and kisses the tip of JJ’s nose. “Don’t want my wife looking haggard in her press conferences. I’ve got an image to uphold.”

JJ laughs and Emily is glad to see it reach the hurting eyes. “An image, huh? Well, can’t ruin that ‘Prentiss image’ I guess. Whatever would Elizabeth say?”

Emily chuckles and gives JJ a deep, loving kiss. “Thanks for taking a chance on me, Jennifer. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Emily.”

She takes Emily hand and leads her to bed. They plan to be good and go right to sleep but one thing leads to another and soon they are demonstrating just how much the really do love each other. And the demonstration continues well into the night.


	7. Chapter 7

When the team arrives at the precinct in Seattle the next morning, Hotch pulls Prentiss aside.

“Everything okay?”

“Mostly. Look, Hotch, JJ and Elle were never a couple but not for lack of trying by Elle. She’s a bit bitter,” Emily hedges the truth. “Also…Elle is harboring a grudge against me. Jen is worried she might…well, do something.”

Hotch nods. “I get it. If it can be avoided, neither of you will be alone with her.”

“Thanks, Hotch.”

Emily heads into the conference room to see if the coroner’s reports for the latest victim had come in overnight. She wanted to see if the same hesitation marks and trace lines occur on the newest one. She also wants to get a fresh look at the pictograms. Maybe after a night’s sleep she’ll see something she didn’t before.

When she finds out the report isn’t in yet, she goes to the board where they had put the pictograms from Seattle and the ones emailed from San Diego. It takes her nearly an hour but if finally hits her. Put in order from first kill to last she sees the story in San Diego.

“Hotch, Rossi, come look at this.” The men walk over. “Can you see what they are saying?” she points to the San Diego graffiti.

The two men stare at it but finally shake their heads. “No clue, Prentiss,” Rossi admits. “What are you seeing?”

She starts at the first one. “Two kids, 1 monster, a party, a gift, pain. And then it repeats again two more times until the killings stop. The images are slightly different but they are essentially the same message.”

“So you’re saying the unsub had a bad birthday party and now he’s killing because of it?” Rossi says skeptically.

“I’m not saying it. The pictures are,” Emily points out. She moves to the set from Seattle. “I still haven’t figured these out yet but I’m guessing it will be similar once I do. These guys are getting revenge for something that happened as a kid.”

“Guys? Plural?” Hotch questions.

“Yeah. I feel like we’re looking at two different killers; two different reasons for hating childhood. That’s why the differences in the survivors. Think about it, a beard can grow back. The victims in San Diego were permanently scarred. I think once Reid and Morgan meet with the detective down there we’ll confirm that we have two unsubs we’re dealing with.”

* * *

 

Morgan and Reid are on the jet by 6 a.m. and meeting with the detective heading up the clown killer case by 10.

“It was the damnedest thing,” Ben Mulroney says, shaking his head. “For two months you’ve got clowns turning up dead in playgrounds, party stores, the zoo, anyplace kids could find them. As if clown’s aren’t terrifying enough to kids, to have to see one beaten, throat slashed it’s just twisted.” He squeezes his eyes shut against the memory. “Bastard sliced the end off their noses.”

“What about the survivors of these attacks?” Reid asks him.

“Only 10 that I know of. They all had basically the same story. Unsub beat the crap out of them, called them liars and said they wouldn’t lie again.” He hands Morgan one folder. “He cut up their faces so badly that makeup wouldn’t hide the scars. Their clown careers are over.”

“Damn. Let me guess…the ones that lived didn’t use fake noses?” Morgan postulates.

Mulroney nods, surprised. “Yeah. How’d you know?”

“In Seattle, the only ‘Santa’s’ that live are the ones with real beards, which he shaves off.”

Morgan is studying the report and looks at Reid. “Something doesn’t make sense to me. The guys in Seattle can grow their beard back. They can be back in malls next year if they want. These clowns are done for anything but a haunted house gig.”

“Maybe the unsub has some remorse? Doesn’t want to destroy…no, that doesn’t make sense. He wants these guys stopped. Permanently,” Reid concludes.

Morgan looks at the detective. “In the autopsies, did the M.E. find any evidence of trace lines in the neck wounds?”

Mulroney grabs the autopsy folders and passes them out. The three men look through the 15 folders. There is no mention of ink on the necks.

“We need to see pictures to be sure,” Reid says looking at Morgan, who nods.

“What are you thinking, Dr. Reid?” Mulroney asks.

“Two unsubs. Ours isn’t as skilled as yours. He has to trace an ink line on the neck of his victims. He also doesn’t mutilate in the same way the survivors,” Reid frowns.

Morgan pulls out his phone and calls Hotch. “Hotch, we may have a team. Or at least a leader and a follower.” He runs down what they have found. “We’re going to go meet with the M.E. to confirm the lack of ink on the necks but right now we’re both leading the same way.”

“Prentiss thought the same thing. I’ll have her email you what she got out of the pictograms. Look, if the detectives want your help, stay there and see what you can do to help them trace that unsub. If not, get them to keep in contact with us and get back here.”

“Got it. Talk to you soon.” Morgan disconnects and looks at Mulroney. “My boss has offered our help. Reid and I can stay and help you re-canvas the scenes, re-interview witnesses with what we know from Seattle.”

“But if there really are two different killers at work how can the two cases help each other?”

“These men know each other. Their pattern is too similar: killing symbols of childhood, leaving the bodies at places associated with that symbol, calling the survivors liars and in some way mutilating them. Please, let us help you and put an end to this before it starts again somewhere else,” Reid pleads.

Mulroney thinks a moment, then nods. “Yeah, okay. I’ll square it with my lieutenant.”

“Thanks,” Reid says as the detective walks away. Once he is out of earshot, the younger agent looks at Morgan. “If he had called us last summer we may have stopped these guys before they got to Seattle.”

“No shit. I’ll start sending info to Garcia. Maybe she can find something, anything to point us in the right direction.”

He pulls out his phone to call the Oracle of Quantico and get her working on the new case.

* * *

 

At 10:30 Elle finally reports to the conference room. She and Emily exchange a glare, each hating the other woman for the same reason: JJ. Hotch and Rossi notice but don’t say anything.

“We’ve got another survivor,” Elle tells them. “He was attacked last night leaving for the day.”

Rossi moves to the map. “Where was the mall on this map?” Elle walks over and points. “And the victim was found?” She points again. Rossi connects the dots. The Christmas tree pattern is closer to completion.

“This is beyond twisted,” Emily states. She looks at the San Diego map that Reid had completed the day before. No discernable picture can be seen. She shakes her head. “It takes extensive planning to create a picture with a city map. Where is the next potential mall in this pattern?” She asks Elle.

“Well, my guess would be this one,” the detective points as she answers.

“We need to stake it out, make sure that Santa is protected,” Hotch says.

Elle nods. “Yeah. I’ll get with Abry on it.”

“Thanks,” Hotch says. “Maybe you and Rossi can head down there when it opens and find out if there have been any suspicious people around Santa, someone more interested in him than the kids.”

Elle nods. “Sure. I’ll be back as soon as I finish with Abry.” She spares a glance at Emily, hating that the profiler had pointed out the obvious way they could potentially save the next victim.

Emily turns to Rossi and Hotch. “They need to have survivors.”

Hotch slowly nods, seeing what she means. “Otherwise no one can pass on their message.”

“Right,” Rossi agrees. “If they stalk these guys enough, they know whose beard is real or not. They only reason to go after the survivors is if they need a message to get out. The graffiti is for them, the survivors are for us.”

The agents all nods, knowing they are narrowing in on at least one unsub.

* * *

 

“NO! NO! NO! Damn it, it’s not that difficult!” Albert Smith yells at his sister. “You cut from one side to the other! Slicing hard and deep and fast to kill them quickly but painfully!”

Sally Smith shudders, she hates when Albert yells. But he’s been yelling a lot since they got to Seattle. She just wasn’t as good at killing as he was. But she really was trying. She looks at the watermelon in front of her. He wouldn’t let her draw the line on her practice necks. She tries to picture it in her head as she stabs the knife into the new “neck” and draws it across the melon. But near the end the knife wobbles, leaving a crooked line instead of a straight one. Albert smacks her in the face.

“NO! You’ve missed the jugular! If you miss the jugular they won’t die fast enough! You risk them living and then what? They’ll be able to identify me! The police will take me away just like they took Daddy away. And you’ll be all alone again. Is that what you want?” She shakes her head. He roars. “IS IT?!”

“NO! No, Albert, please don’t let them leave me alone again! Please!” She begs, more terrified of losing her brother than she is of her brother. “I’ll try harder, I promise. Maybe if I can mark the start and stop point on the melon? Then maybe I won’t have to do it to their necks.”

Albert glares at his sister. She was so weak but it really wasn’t her fault. He shivers as his whole demeanor changes from angry to caring. He pets her head comfortingly. When he speaks his voice is calm, almost sweet. “Fine. Let’s do that, Sally. And I’ll try not to get so angry. I just…I’m scared they’ll separate us again. I never want to be away from you. You’re my world, Sally.”

She smiles. He was so sweet to say these things to her. He really did take good care of her. He made her feel so loved. He lifts her marker and marks two points on the melon. He smiles at her, caressing her cheek.

“Okay, honey, try again.”

She smiles adoringly up at him and starts to practice the killing cut once more.


	8. Chapter 8

In the car on the way to the hospital, Elle glances at Rossi. “I’m surprised Hotch didn’t send Prentiss with me.”

Rossi raises an eyebrow and gives a sarcastic smile. “No you’re not.”

Elle chuckles. “Okay, maybe not.” She thinks a moment. “Tell me, is JJ okay with her? I mean, surely you all see that someone broke JJ’s nose but it hasn’t been fixed yet.”

Rossi looks at the woman, shocked at what she’s suggesting. “For your information, we got caught in an explosion a couple months ago. JJ got hit with some of the debris and it shattered her nose. Emily has never raised a hand to her. She wouldn’t.”

Elle has the grace to blush. “Oh. Good. I mean, good that Prentiss wouldn’t hurt her, not that she was hurt.”

“I knew what you meant. Why are you so determined to come between them?”

“I’m not,” she says petulantly.

“You take a dig at Emily the first time you meet her, you stand staring at JJ while she’s in the media office,” Elle blushes again, not realizing she’d been seen, “and last night you said something that upset JJ enough that Emily and Hotch went tearing after her to make sure she is okay. I might be old, kid, but I’m not stupid,” he tells her.

Elle’s jaw is clenched. She hates that Rossi has seen so much. She hates that there is so much to be seen. “JJ and I have a history. And there was supposedly a misunderstanding between us after I resigned. We’ll get it figured out.”

“A misunderstanding?” Elle doesn’t respond. “Fine. Get it figured out. But know that I, and the whole team, will make your life miserable if you do anything to cause them pain.”

The rest of the ride is made in silence, giving Elle more time to think about the accusation JJ had made. Try as she might, Elle just doesn’t remember ever going to visit JJ. Though she does remember one morning waking up with a hangover, a black eye and a bruised cheek. Could she really have tried to attack JJ? No. There was no way that happened. She was a specialist in sex crimes. She would never cross that line. Never.

* * *

 

“Office of How Can I Save Your Ass Today, the goddess Garcia speaking.”

Emily laughs. “You’re certifiable and I love it, Garcia.”

“Aw, you say the sweetest things, Emily. And it’s always the truth. So, speak and let me be of assistance to you.”

“Garcia, we think there are actually two different killers, one goes after clowns, the other Santa Claus. Did any of your searches turn up brothers or cousins with childhood issues?”

Garcia taps in the latest filter. “52 sets of names come up. Troubles range from simple assault to murder.”

“Okay. Filter out any in which one or both are still incarcerated.”

“Okay. Done. 27 sets. Wow…that’s a lot of people with sibs in jail.”

“Okay. Any record of those 27 being in San Diego and Seattle?”

Garcia types some more. “Damn. None have been in San Diego that I can find.”

“Shit.” She starts to pace and thinks about Reid’s idea about the unsubs being protectors versus avengers. “Maybe neither of them has been in the criminal system. I hate to ask this, Garcia, but can you run the same kind of search but concentrate on siblings entering the foster care system.”

“Em, you know that will turn up hundreds of names, right?” Garcia cautions.

Emily pinches the bridge of her nose. “I know. Hopefully the San Diego-Seattle filter will help narrow it down.”

“I’ll do my best, Princess. Garcia out.”

The analyst hangs up the phone as Emily goes back to staring at the graffiti. Reus comes racing in.

“Prentiss! I think we have her!”

Emily is confused. “Her who?”

“The graffiti artist. Look!”

He gives her an image pulled from a dash cam. It shows a woman, about 5’5” painting an image on the wall. Emily looks from that picture to the ones on the wall. She holds it up near one of the pictograms. “This one. Same wall, same alley. She went back and finished it. When was the ticket given?”

“The Tuesday before Thanksgiving.”

“Got an address?”

“Of course.”

“Let’s go.” Emily pulls out her phone and calls Hotch, who is meeting with JJ about an upcoming press conference. “Reus has a lead. Hotch, the graffiti artist is a woman.”

“A woman? Big, strong enough to handle the men?”

“No way. She must have a husband, brother or boyfriend she is working with. We’re going to go pretend to follow-up on the ticket she got for tagging the alley. Once we assess the situation we’ll be in touch.”

“Okay. Careful, Prentiss.”

“Always, Hotch.” She hangs up and calls Garcia back. “Garcia, narrow your search to men and women or two women. We know at least one is a woman though I’m pretty sure she used an alias on the ticket she was given.”

“Dare I ask what name in case she used it before?”

Emily chuckles. “You’ll get too many hookers. She used ‘Scarlet O’Hara’.”

“Oh, geez, and the officer accepted that?”

“If she had no i.d. he’d be forced to. Do your magic, Sunshine. Talk to you soon.”

She disconnects as she climbs in the unmarked sedan with Reus. They head to the address hoping it’s not as dead an end as the woman’s name. In the car, he looks at Prentiss.

“Why would you have her search for a pair of women?”

“Sometimes men don’t want to admit a woman beat them up. And, well, some women can pass as men if they want to,” she explains.

“Ah. Both good points.”

They spend the rest of the ride in silence. When they arrive at the address, they find the building is a worn down apartment building. Though not abandoned, it is not a place that would be first choice on anyone’s list of places to live. Emily looks at Reus.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“Me, too. Should we wait for backup?”

“What are the chances we’ll get any?” she wonders.

“Slim to none. It’s not a hot entry, there’s no warrant. I think it’s just us,” he warns her.

Emily stares at the building a moment, then shakes her head. “Well, guess we get the glory all to ourselves.”

Reus chuckles. “Gee. Lucky us.”

The two get out of the car and head inside the building. They are immediately hit with the rancid smell of urine and other disgusting odors. Emily remembers why she never considered being a beat cop. They climb the stairs to the third floor, knowing better than to trust the elevator. On the second landing, they run into a junkie having a bad trip. Reus pulls out his phone and calls for an ambulance.

“Remind me to get a vacation apartment in this place,” Emily comments as they continue up to the next floor. Reus just grins.

When they reach the third floor, they have to look at 4 doors before actually finding one with a number on it. Suspiciously, it’s the address they are looking for and it looks new.

“I’ve got a really bad feeling about this,” Emily mutters. Reus just nods as Emily knocks on the door. When there is no answer, she knocks again, rolling her eyes as she uses the name on the ticket. “Ms. O’Hara? It’s the police, we have a few questions for—

Before she can finish the statement, automatic gunfire sounds, tearing through the door. Reus grunts as he is hit. Emily dives to the ground out of the way of the door.

“REUS!”

“I…fine…”

Emily pulls out her phone and hits the precinct number. “THIS IS AGENT EMILY PRENTISS! OFFICER DOWN AT 342 RIVERSIDE! REPEAT: OFFICER DOWN!”

She pulls her gun and drops the phone as what’s left of the door is ripped out of the doorframe. A wild-eyed man steps out of the door, his focus on Reus.

“DIE MOTHERFUCKER!” he screams at the fallen detective.

“DROP YOUR WEAPON!” Emily screams at him.

He spins towards her, his gun firing before it even reaches her. She fires three times to center mass, driving him back into the apartment. She grimaces as a bullet ricochet’s and hits her in the leg.

She still pulls herself to her feet, knowing the gunman may not be the only one in the apartment. She grabs Reus with one hand and drags him down the hall away from the apartment. She tries not to look at the blood seeping out from under his hands, staining his white shirt crimson.

Once she gets them to the end of the hallway she puts him closest to the wall, crouching in front of him, her weapon trained down the hall in case any other gunmen make an appearance. From the busted window behind her she can hear sirens getting closer.

“They’re almost here, Reus. Just hang on. You hear me? Hang the fuck on!”

It seems like forever but is really only minutes before the first officers arrive on scene. She sends them down to clear the apartment and get the few residents who had ventured out into the hallway back into their own homes.

With someone else to protect them, she turns to Reus. She pulls off her coat and presses it to his stomach, trying to help stop the bleeding.

“You’re going to be fine, Reus. Just fine. You hear me? Look at me, Reus. You’re going to be fine.” His eyes start to get glassy. She turns to look at the officer standing behind her. “WHERE’S THE FUCKING MEDICS?!”

When the EMT’s appear, she tries to stand to get out of their way. A wave of dizziness hits her and she starts to fall, only the cop behind her keeps her from crashing to the ground.

“SHIT! She’s hit, too!” the officer yells at the EMT’s.

“I’m…I’m fine…I’m…fi…” Emily passes out. She had felt the bullet hit her leg. She hadn’t felt the one hit her side.


	9. Chapter 9

JJ is talking to the police spokesperson when she sees Hotch approaching her. She doesn’t like the look on his face. As he enters the office she steels herself.

“What happened?”

“Emily and Reus have been shot.”

JJ feels her knees start to give but quickly catches herself, using the chair beside her to maintain her feet.

“Before you ask I don’t know their status,” Hotch continues. “Let’s go.”

JJ can only nod, following Hotch out of the station house and out to an SUV. As they walk, he calls Rossi.

“Dave, Emily and Reus are on their way to the hospital you and Greenaway are in. They’ve been shot. I don’t know anything more.” He listens a minute. “If you do, call me. JJ is with me.”

He disconnects and glances at the silent media liaison. He wants to offer words of encouragement but knows better than to offer false hope. He actually did know that one of the hit officers is in bad shape; he just didn’t know which one. With lights and sirens it still takes a frustratingly long time to get to the hospital.

As they enter they see Dave and Elle speaking with a nurse. “Dave!” Hotch hollers. He older agent turns around, his face annoyingly blank. He raises his hands to stop Hotch and JJ from running down the hallway.

“Reus has been taken to surgery. He got hit twice in the stomach.” He looks JJ in the eyes. “Emily is in a treatment room down the hall. She took a ricochet to the leg and a shallow through-and-through along her side. She lost a lot of blood and her body went into shock but they think she’ll be fine in a couple days.”

JJ’s voice is steadier than she expected. “What room?”

“Four,” Dave answers.

JJ just nods and walks past him towards her wife. Elle watches her go, wanting to see Emily herself, but not to make sure she’s okay. Elle wants to beat the profiler, hurt her for being okay while Reus is fighting for his life. Elle glares at Hotch.

“Glad to see you finally give a damn about your agents.”

She spins and heads towards the surgical floor to wait for word on her partner. Hotch just watches her go, knowing nothing he could say would placate the woman at this time. He nods to Dave and they follow JJ down to Emily’s room.

“I’m fine, damn it,” JJ hears Emily say as she gets closer to the room. The blonde can’t help but feel a little better that Emily was acting ornery already.

As she turns into the room she is struck by how pale Emily appears. She takes in the IV, the heart monitor and the bloody clothes on the floor around her wife’s bed. Emily’s right calf is bandaged and elevated on the bed. The hospital gown is pulled to the side, revealing a large bandage on Emily’s left side that the nurse is finishing taping. JJ shudders, thinking how much worse it could have been. She steps into the room and forces a smile onto her face.

“I just can’t let you go anywhere alone, can I?”

Emily looks up, her face shocked. “Jen. How did you get here? Who told you? I said I’d call you.”

JJ walks over to Emily and takes her hand. “Hotch told me and brought me. Did you really think we’d be in a police station and not hear a cop and a Fed had been shot? And just when did you plan to call me? When you were released?” As JJ had spoken, her fear had turned to anger. What the hell did Emily think telling people not to call her? Why the hell wouldn’t she want her wife beside her while dealing with this?

Emily reaches out and strokes JJ’s cheek, knowing her wife is getting angry and guessing why. “I’m sorry. I just…didn’t want you to worry. I just asked for a phone to call you. I swear.” She looks to the nurse.

“She did ask for a phone, ma’am,” the nurse confirms.

JJ forces a smile back to her face. “Saved by the nurse, Prentiss.”

Emily manages a smile. “Thank goodness.” She takes a deep breath. “Reus?”

“In surgery. He was hit twice in the stomach according to Dave.”

Emily shakes her head. “We shouldn’t have gone in. It felt wrong from the start. The fucking door was numbered and none of the others were. It was just wrong, Jen.”

“Stop beating yourself up, Prentiss,” Hotch says from the doorway. “You were both doing your jobs. You followed up on a good lead.”

“It was a set up, Hotch!” Emily insists. “Otherwise why make sure that door is numbered? Why? The fucking unsubs knew we’d follow up and—and—ugh…”

The heart monitor had started to go nuts. Emily had paled significantly the angrier she’d gotten. Her voice trails off as she slumps back against the bed. JJ runs a hand down Emily’s face.

“Easy, baby. You may not believe it, but you did get shot today. Twice. Your body needs to recover. Calm down. Please.” Emily’s breathing gradually calms; her heart slows. “That’s it, baby. Calm down. That’s it.”

“Jen…I’m better. I promise,” Emily vows somewhat breathlessly.

“I know. But the only way you’re going to stay better is to keep calm,” the liaison insists.

“She’s right, Emily,” Dave agrees. “I’m sure they gave you some good pain killers. Let them work.”

Emily slowly shakes her head. “No. No painkillers. Too much to do. Refused them.”

“You WHAT?” JJ blurts. She looks to the nurse. “Tell me you lied to her and doped her up anyway.”

“No, ma’am. Once the patient refused we couldn’t give her anything more than a local at each wound site.”

JJ shakes her head and mumbles. “Son of stubborn fucking bitch.” She takes a deep breath and looks at the nurse. “I’ve got power of attorney on her when she’s hurt. Drug her. Now.”

“I don’t think I can—” the nurse starts.

“She does,” Hotch agrees. “Find her doctor. Agent Prentiss can’t make her own decisions right now. Agent Jareau will act on her behalf in her best interests.”

“What a fucking minute, Hotch!” Emily screams. Her heart rate again shoots up. She starts to sit up in the bed. “I am perfectly fine to…to…oh, shit…” her eyes roll back in her head and she passes out.

JJ rolls her eyes and glares at the nurse. “I repeat…drug her. Now.”

The nurse swallows nervously. “Uh, right. Let me go find the doctor.” She hurries out of the room. Hotch lays a hand on JJ’s shoulder.

“I’m going to step out to call Morgan and Reid. We need them back here. JJ, with two officers shot, this is going to explode. Can you remain spokesperson or do I need to call the local field office for assistance?”

JJ stares at Emily a moment. Yes, she wanted nothing more than to stay by her wife’s side. But they had promised themselves and their team that the personal wouldn’t interfere with the professional. Emily is hurt but would be fine. She turns and looks Hotch in the eye. “As soon as they get her sedated and moved, I’ll be ready to make a statement to the press.”

Hotch smiles and nods. “That’s what I thought. I’ll meet you back in the lobby when you’re ready to go.”

JJ nods and turns her attention back to Emily for the time being. Hotch and Rossi step out into the hall.

“Dave, Elle is going to blame Emily for this.”

“I know. I’ll run as much interference as I can but I think they are going to end up having a show down. Do you know what exactly happened between Greenaway and JJ?”

“No. But my guess is Elle had feelings JJ didn’t return. And now Elle is causing problems for JJ and Emily.”

“You can say that again,” Rossi confirms.

“Hmm. I was afraid of that. As far as I’m concerned the personal shit is secondary to finding the unsubs and making them pay for the murders and for setting up Prentiss and Reus. Why don’t you find Elle and see if you can reach out to her? You may be our only hope of keeping this from blowing up in our faces.”

Dave just nods and heads for the elevators. Hotch heads to the lobby to make a very difficult phone call.

* * *

 

Reid and Morgan had confirmed that none of the clowns had trace lines on their necks. They had talked to several of the survivors and all had told the same story of a man who was angry at clowns and called them liars. Unfortunately, the unsub had never told them what exactly they were lying about.

“So, no trace lines, fewer hesitation marks, more beatings. My guess is we’re looking at the Alpha’s crimes. This team is killing people who represent a terrible time in their childhood; a time when all they believed possible was crushed under the reality of life,” Morgan summarizes.

“Yes. We had started our speculating that the unsubs had been abused by Santa or a clown. What if they were abused by someone else, someone closer? It could have sent them into the foster system,” Reid points out. “Maybe that’s where someone told them the lie that is driving them to kill.”

Morgan nods. “True. Maybe we can…” he stops as his phone rings. He answers it. “Hey, Hotch. I think we have a theory that could—” Reid watches as Morgan’s eyes get impossibly wide. “What? Is she okay? What about the shooter?”

Reid tenses. A member of their team had been shot. A female member. JJ, Emily…or Elle?

“Right. I’ll see how soon we can get in the air. I’ll call you when we leave.” He disconnects and stares out the windshield of the SUV, his hands resting on the top of the steering wheel. Reid can’t read the expression on his friend’s face.

“Morgan, what happened?”

Morgan slowly turns and looks into Reid’s eyes. “Emily and Reus were chasing down a lead. Took them into a fucking shooting gallery. Reus is in surgery. It doesn’t look good. Emily took a bullet to the leg and side. She’ll be okay eventually. She killed the shooter.”

Reid stares at Morgan, trying to will the man to say it was just a joke or a terrible misunderstanding. Finally the genius looks away. “We going back?”

Morgan nods. “Yeah. As soon as possible. And that’s fine: our killers are in Seattle, nor San Diego.”

Reid can only nod as Morgan starts the SUV. “I’ll call the pilot. You call Mulroney. See if he wants to come with us.”

“You were cleared to invite him up?” Reid asks.

“Better to ask forgiveness than permission sometimes. He wants to see these bastards brought to justice. There’s a chance they’ll opt for suicide by cop. He deserves a chance to see it through as long as he can.

* * *

 

Elle is pacing in the waiting room when Rossi walks in. She barely spares him a glance.

“Shouldn’t you be with Princess…I mean Prentiss?” she sneers.

“You’re upset about your partner so I’ll ignore that dig once. And only once,” Rossi states pointedly.

Elle ignores him, continuing to pace. “Why the hell didn’t she protect him? Does she care he has a wife and 5 kids? Why the hell didn’t she—”

“Greenaway, we weren’t there. We don’t know what happened because neither Reus nor Emily are in shape to give a statement. But from what I understand, they were following up on a lead. A ticket for tagging a building gave them a name, photo and address. Name and address were fakes. They just had no idea the address was deadly.”

“They went to the fucking slums, Rossi! How could she not look at that place and know it was a set up?”

“Why didn’t Reus know?” Rossi counters.

“Don’t you dare make this about him!” She threatens. “This is not about Reus. This is about Agent Prentiss fucking up!”

Rossi steps into her personal space. _“No one_   fucked up, Greenaway. Two cops did their jobs and two cops got shot. One cop managed to kill their attacker and cover the other cop until help arrived. And to say any different insults Reus just as much as it insults Emily.”

Elle looks like she wants to argue more but Reus’ wife and priest arrive. She just glowers at Rossi then goes to welcome her partner’s spouse and let her know what little she knows about Reus’ condition.

Rossi finds a seat and drops into it. He is not about to leave the time bomb that is Elle Greenaway while Emily is not in the position to protect herself. He doesn’t trust the former FBI agent to leave her replacement alone.


	10. Chapter 10

JJ holds up a copy of the dash cam picture. “We are asking this woman to please give us a call as she may have seen something in the alley where she was ticketed. We know she was just there to graffiti the wall and we don’t have any plans to charge her with anything more. We simply want to ask her a few questions. If you think you know this woman, please encourage her to call us or call us yourself so that we can reach out to her. Thank you for your help in tracking her down.”

She watches as officers distribute copies of the picture to the waiting media horde. As they finish, she steps to the podium. “Are there any questions at this time?”

“Is it true two officers were shot by this woman’s accomplice?”

“No. Two officers were shot earlier while looking to question another potential witness to the murders.”

“Did the FBI Agent kill the shooter?”

“The investigation into the shooting is on-going and no firm conclusions have been drawn at this time. It would be premature to speculate on who shot whom.”

“What about the links between the murders of Santa Claus to the killings of clowns in San Diego?”

JJ is shocked. They had been careful not to let that information out. Outwardly, she betrays nothing. “As far as we know, our killer is only responsible for the murders in Seattle. No correlation has been found between him and any other spate of murders that have occurred in the last year. I have no more time for questions right now. I will be in touch to let you know when the next briefing will occur. Thank you.”

JJ turns and heads inside the station. She goes straight to the bathroom, needing some time alone and needing to splash cold water on her face. How the hell had she managed to keep herself together when inside she was angry and just wants to pummel the body of the man who would dare hurt Emily.

As she is drying off her face her phone rings. She grabs it, praying it’s Emily. Instead her heart leaps in her throat as she sees “Rome” on the screen. She takes a deep breath and answers.

“Elizabeth.”

“Jennifer, is she okay? Really?” Elizabeth sounds frantic.

“She’s going to be fine. Basically they are flesh wounds. She lost some blood and she was in shock. She may have been okay but she dragged her partner down the hall and covered him until help arrived. Stress made her lose more blood than she normally would have.”

“I’ve tried to call her but she won’t answer. Are you with her?”

“Her phone was left at the scene. It will be returned to her soon.” JJ takes a deep breath. “I’m at the precinct. I just had to lead a press conference where we released the photo of a potential witness.”

There is silence on the other end of the line. “Why are you working instead of being by her side, Jennifer?” the ambassador asks disapprovingly.

“Because it’s what Emily would want me to do. We have to stop two killers, Elizabeth. And those two killers set Emily and Reus up to be shot. I’ll do whatever it takes to hunt the bastards down and make them pay for everyone that has been hurt by them,” JJ says vehemently.

There is another pause. When the ambassador speaks, this time it is with respect. “Well put, Jennifer. Good luck bringing those bastards to justice. And when you talk to Emily, tell her I love her.”

JJ smiles. “I will. Thank you for calling, Elizabeth. I really needed to hear a friendly voice.”

“Thank you for answering. I needed to know Emily was really okay. Take care of my girl, Jen.”

“I will. I promise.”

JJ hangs up, her heart lighter than it had been. She stares at herself in the mirror. “Work the case, JJ. Work it so you can get your wife home where she will heal better.”

She straightens her blouse and jacket. She turns towards the door as it opens…to admit Elle Greenaway. The two women stare at each other; one nervous, one furious. JJ finally breaks the awkward silence.

“How’s Reus?”

“He made it through surgery. Next 48 hours will be the key. If he makes it through he should be fine eventually,” she answers flatly.

“Good. That’s really good news.” They stare at each other a moment more. Finally JJ starts towards the door. “Well, I need to go—”

“It was all Emily’s fault, you know. She’s the one that led him into a trap. She’s the one that nearly got him killed. She’s no better than Hotch at keeping people safe. You might want to keep that in mind if you and your kid are going to be around her.”

JJ’s emotions had already been running dangerously close to explosion. Elle has now ignited them. Before she realizes what she’s doing, JJ draws back and punches Elle in the face. The detective goes to the ground. JJ stands over her.

“You say one more word against her, one more disparaging remark about her character, you will find out I can do more than hit. Got it?”

JJ steps over Elle before the brunette can answer. JJ storms down the hall and out of the building. She runs into Reid and Morgan who are jogging up the steps. They see JJ is on edge and in a hurry.

“Oh, God…Emily?” Reid asks. Morgan can only pray silently.

“She’ll be fine. I need some air. Excuse me.”

She steps around them and heads down to the parking lot. She leans against the back of one of the SUV’s. Pulling out her phone, she scrolls through until she finds the PowerPoint Garcia had made before the Denali case. JJ watches the images flash across the screen, drinking in the images of Emily and Henry. Drawing strength from the loves of her life. Trying to settle herself knowing how easily it could have been Emily in Reus’ position. Or how the shooter could have targeted her first when he came out the door.

“Oh, God, Emily. Too fucking close. What would I do if…” she can’t finish the thought. She knows she needs to regain control of her emotions. There was a job to do. They were down one agent and one detective. Possibly two detectives depending on what Elle decides to do in the aftermath of their confrontation.

JJ wipes her face and heads back inside. She meets her team in the lobby.

“There’s been another murder,” Hotch tells her. She looks beyond him to see Elle walking towards them. JJ looks back to Hotch.

“Let’s go.”

The FBI agents head out to their SUV’s and follow Greenaway’s Crown Victoria to the latest crime scene.


	11. Chapter 11

The FBI agents stand back, surveying the scene of the latest dump site. Hotch slowly shakes his head.

“They changed the pattern. We were watching the mall that should have held the next target. And this site is not part of their pattern,” Hotch says to his team.

“And where is the graffiti?” JJ asks.

“How did they know to change things?” Rossi asks.

“Think they have someone inside the force feeding them information?” Reid questions.

Hotch slowly shakes his head. “I don’t think so. They wouldn’t want to trust anyone outside their team. These attacks are personal, private. Adding someone else means risking their secret agenda getting out,” Hotch answers.

Morgan walks up to Elle, who is standing beside the body. He stares at the dead Santa for a minute then shakes his head. “Something isn’t right here.”

“Several things aren’t right,” Elle points out. “No graffiti, no extensive beating and the slash across the neck is superficial at best.”

“Right. The petechiae in the eyes is reminiscent of suffocation. And this building doesn’t relate to anything you might associate with Christmas,” Morgan also mentions. “I don’t think this is our unsub.”

“A fucking copycat. Waste of damn time,” Elle gripes. She turns and starts to walk away.

“Hey!” Morgan calls to her. Elle turns to him. “Aren’t you going to work the scene?”

“I’m already on a case. I don’t have time for this one, too. Abry can assign another detective to take over.” She turns and continues to her car. She gets in and leaves.

Hotch walks up to Morgan. “What the hell is going on, Morgan. Where is she going?”

“Leaving the scene to another detective because she’s too busy on the real case. Hotch, our initial assumption is this guy’s killer is a copycat. Too much isn’t right.”

“Shit. I was afraid of that. Okay, stick with the scene until a new detective arrives. Help him out if he needs it. The rest of us are going to go back and weed through some of the promising tips from the phone lines. Someone has to know that woman,” Hotch says hopefully.

* * *

 

Emily’s eyes slowly start to open. Her head is foggy, a result of the painkillers she had been given against her wishes. She frowns, anger at JJ boiling up. The room is dim but she registers that someone is sitting in the chair beside her bed.

“J—Jen?” she croaks, her throat dry and scratchy.

Hearing Emily’s voice, the person reaches for the water on the side table. A straw is held up to Emily’s lips and she drinks gratefully. As her head clears she realizes who is sitting beside her. Elle removes the cup and places it back on the side table. The two brunettes stare at each other.

“How’s Reus?” Emily asks.

“Touch and go. What the hell happened, Prentiss? Too eager to wait for backup?”

“We knew it would be impossible to get back up just because we didn’t like the neighborhood. It wasn’t a hot entry and we were pretty sure the address was a fake. We decided to check it out anyway. We decided everything together. It wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t mine. Still feel like shit that he’s in worse shape that me,” Emily admits.

“How’d you get off so easily anyway?”

Emily sighs, knowing this is personal and not an official statement. “When the gunfire sounded I moved slightly faster than Reus. I dove to the side. When the gunman came out he saw Reus on the ground and was getting ready to shoot him again. I yelled to get his attention and when he turned he was still firing. I shot him. I got up and dragged Reus down the hall, walking backwards so I could keep my gun trained on the door in case he wasn’t alone.”

“How did you know he was dead?”

“Three shots center mass,” Emily says simply. “I felt the bullet hit my leg. Never felt the one hit my side. All I cared about was keeping Reus safe until back up arrived.”

Elle reluctantly nods. When she’d gone to the precinct earlier she had demanded to hear the 911 call. Her only regret was not listening to it before talking to JJ. Emily’s phone had never disconnected and she’d heard everything until a cop eventually hung it up. She jumps when Emily asks a question.

“So did JJ hit you or someone else?”

Elle stares into Emily’s eyes. She takes a deep breath and looks away. “JJ. And I deserved it.”

“She can be very protective of the ones she loves,” Emily points out.

“Ha! Not everyone.” Elle stands to leave. “I just wanted to see if you were okay and say thanks for protecting Reus. I’ll see you later.”

She starts towards the door but Emily’s next statement stops her in her tracks.

“She didn’t want to hurt you, Elle. She knew your feelings for her were deeper than she had for you. She even thought about having sex with you but knew it wouldn’t be fair to you.” Elle stiffens, her eyes close at that bit of information. “She never expected to fall in love with another agent. She couldn’t know what she told you about not dating co-workers would be a lie. And it hurts her that she hurt you.”

Elle slowly turns and looks at Emily. “Then why didn’t she take my calls after I resigned?”

Emily just raises an eyebrow. “I think you know why.”

The two women stare at each other. Finally Elle just turns and leaves without another word. Emily sighs and stares at the ceiling. She hopes, for JJ’s sake more than Elle’s, that the former agent finally lets go of the past.

Down the hall, JJ sees Elle leave Emily’s room. Her eyes widen as her heart skips a beat. Her fear rises when she sees Elle use the stairwell at the end of the hall to leave instead of moving towards the elevators. JJ jogs down the hall and into Emily’s room.

“Em!” she hollers, worried.

“Jen!” Emily shoots up in bed, immediately regretting the movement. “Unngghh…not good,” she mumbles as she flops back.

“Oh, God, baby, are you okay? Did she hurt you? What happened?”

Emily takes a few deep breaths to ease the pain in her side. Finally she looks into her wife’s terrified eyes. “I was okay. She had questions about the shooting. I’m fine. Really.”

JJ stares into Emily’s eyes, seeing no signs of deception. “So, Elle didn’t hurt you?”

“No, baby. She even got me some water.”

“So…you were fine until I screamed? Oh, shit, Emily, I am so sorry.”

“You should be. But not for that. What the hell did they give me? My head feels like it’s full of memory foam.”

JJ smiles. “I believe it was a dose of morphine.”

“Shit. I’ve always hated that crap,” Emily gripes. “Please remember that for next time.”

JJ laughs, “You do realize you admit there will be a next time you’re in the hospital and I have to get them to drug you?”

“I may realize it but it doesn’t mean I have to like it, right?” Emily jokes. “At least this way you know what they can and can’t give me.”

JJ leans down and gives Emily a kiss. “How about we just concentrate on not letting this happen again, okay? Humor me, at least.”

“Okay…I’ll humor you.” Emily takes JJ’s hand in her own. “I love you, Jen. And I need you to know…I’ll always do my damnedest to come home to you and Henry.”

“I know, baby. I know.”

“So what time is it? Why are you here instead of the precinct?”

“Most of the team is weeding through tips from the tip line. Hotch said I should come check on you and someone else wanted to see you, too.”

“Oh? Who?”

“Me, you lazy butt. I swear, I leave for a couple days and you decide to lay around in bed rather than help out. Gonna have to kick your ass next drill, Princess,” Morgan says from the doorway.

Emily laughs. “Kick my ass? You and what army, Morgan?”

He grins and walks over to the bed. He takes her free hand and gives it a squeeze. “When Hotch told me…my heart stopped, Em. Damn glad you’re okay.”

She squeezes his hand. “Thanks, Derek. I’m here because of a move you taught me. I owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything. I taught you that to make sure you always get home to your wife and son.” He smiles honestly.

“Then I’d say you did exceptionally well,” JJ praises him.

“What did you all find in San Diego?” Emily asks.

Morgan looks to JJ and raises an eyebrow, silently asking if it’s okay to fill Emily in on the case. Emily rolls her eyes. “Shit, Morgan, she’s my wife not my keeper.”

JJ laughs. “Yes, but I can put him in paperwork hell, Em. That’s very helpful to keep all of you in line.”

“You play dirty, Agent Jareau.”

“Yes…but I always win so I’ll keep it up, Agent Prentiss,” she says with a wink. “Tell her, Derek.”

Morgan chuckles and tells Emily what he and Reid had found in San Diego. As he finishes, Emily frowns.

“So the clown’s are the Alpha’s thing and Santa is the Beta’s. It sill doesn’t make sense. Of course, it only has to make sense to them, I know, but still…” She thinks a moment. “Jen, are there any cops watching the next potential malls?”

“Yes. That’s why the murder earlier took us by surprise.”

“Earlier?” Emily questions. Morgan and JJ explain about the copycat. Emily nods, not surprised that someone would try to bury another murder with the spree. “So if they’ve waited this long to move on their next target they must know we’re closing in on who they are.”

“What are you thinking, Prentiss?” Morgan asks.

“They made sure we went to the apartment number in the report. Went out of their way to make sure we did. Went so far as to buy and install the numbers on that door. What if it was to see if anyone put together the graffiti with the murders?”

“How would they do that?” JJ asks.

The light dawn’s in Morgan’s eyes. “They do live in that building, maybe even on that floor. Just not that apartment.”

“Right. But if a Fed and a detective show up asking questions they can be pretty certain it’s not about a simple tagging ticket,” Emily finishes.

Morgan pulls out his phone. “Hotch? We need to re-canvas the apartments where Prentiss and Reus were ambushed. The unsubs may live there after all.”


	12. Chapter 12

Garcia had been working long hours. She had been getting to Quantico at her regular time but staying late knowing the team was on the West Coast and could need her later at night. She has just finished her second Monster in less than 4 hours when an alert sounds. She rolls her chair to that computer and sees it is the one that she had been refining the most: siblings in foster care after abuse.

“Holy clowns and Claus’, Batman! I think we have something!”

She hits dial on her phone and waits impatiently for Hotch to answer. When he does she lets the caffeine dictate her speed and coherence.

“We found them! Reid was right! And so was Emily. They were in San Diego and Seattle as kids and now there is record of him in San Diego during the clown killings and now again in Seattle while Santa is being killed. And you know, maybe some people are freaky about clowns but really they are just trying to make people happy. Well, except maybe for bad and evil clowns like John Wayne Gacy but most aren’t like him. And, geez, Santa is just a jolly old elf and—”

“GARCIA!” Hotch’s third attempt to get her attention finally works. She shuts up. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Garcia, can you please take a deep breath and start again and this time  _only_  with pertinent information?”

Those gathered in the conference room listening on speaker phone laugh at the hyper analyst. They hear her take the requested deep breath before restarting her report.

“Albert and Sally Smith were horribly abused by their mother while they lived in Seattle. Authorities arrested her for prostitution and the kids were sent to live with their father in San Diego. Problem was he was equally abusive. Eventually the kids were taken away from him and put into the foster care system. Reports that I did a ‘thing’ to see show that the kids were both horribly withdrawn, go figure, but that they were taken in by a family that did everything they could to try to give the kids their childhood back.”

“Let me guess,” Rossi starts, “lots of parties with clowns and every Christmas they had a visit with Santa.”

“Yes, sir. Their caseworker made note of everything. Even has a few letters from the foster family about the things they were doing for the kids.”

“So then why start murdering the things you get when your life is getting better?” Mulroney asks, happy he’s been allowed to help with the Seattle investigation.

“Because I’m sure the clowns and Santa’s told the kids things would be better soon,” Hotch postulates.

“That I can’t tell you, sir. But I can tell you that Albert Smith has been in and out of jail on mostly petty things since he was a teenager. Sally Smith has a clean record but it doesn’t look like she’s ever worked a day in her life.”

“So she’s completely dependent on her brother,” Rossi says. “She’s the follower. She’s the one murdering Santa Claus.”

“He ambushes them, gets them into a van, truck or SUV, beats them, and then she delivers the killing blow,” Hotch theorizes.

“Don’t forget, she does the graffiti for them both. That’s where she takes the lead,” Rossi reminds Hotch. “She’s not a blind follower. She’s fully invested in this.”

Hotch nods. “Agreed.” Before he can say anything more, he gets the call from Morgan. When he hangs up he looks at the team. “We need to go through the apartment complex again. Garcia, is there any evidence that either Smith lives in the apartments at 342 Riverside or the surrounding buildings where they could see that address?”

“No, sir. In fact, the only reason I know they are in Seattle is that Sally Smith’s disability checks are sent to a PO Box in that city.”

“Disability checks?” Hotch presses.

“Yes, sir. But don’t ask for what as those medical records are hidden from my eyes for now. I’ll let you know if that changes.”

Hotch chuckles. “Um, best not tell me too much, Garcia.”

“Ah, right, sir.”

“Garcia,” Reid interjects, “can you cross reference when her checks first started being sent to the PO Box with new tenants moving into the building?”

“Ooo, and that is why you are the boy wonder,” she praises as she types along the keys. “Yahtzee! A ‘husband and wife’ moved into 342 Riverside, apartment 308, the same month she got her first check. And their names are Molly and Harold Carpenter, which just happens to be the couple that fostered the young Smith children.”

“Apartment 308…they would have been across the hall watching Emily and Reus get ambushed,” Hotch mutters. “Fucking bastards. I need to find Abry. We need a warrant. Now. Garcia, damn good job.”

“Thank you, sir. Garcia out.”

* * *

 

When JJ and Morgan leave Emily to meet up with the team they are surprised to find Elle waiting at their Tahoe. She has trouble looking either of them in the eye.

“JJ…ride with me to the station? We…we need to talk.”

JJ glances at Morgan who doesn’t look happy about the situation. She finally nods to Elle.

“Sure.”

“Jayje, you sure?” Morgan confirms as Elle gets into her car.

“Yes. Derek, we have to get this settled. And Emily said she was decent in there just now. Maybe she’s changed.”

“And maybe a tiger can’t change its stripes. I’ll be right behind you.”

She gives his arm a squeeze and gets into the car. Once inside, she sees Elle checking the onboard computer. “Hotch is trying to get a search warrant for one of the apartments where Reus and Emily were attacked.”

“Good. Maybe this shit is almost over,” JJ hopes.

“Maybe. What about our shit?”

“What about it, Elle?”

“Can we even be friends again? Ever?”

JJ stares out the window, unable to answer immediately. Elle sighs in frustration and starts the car. She pulls out, not surprised to see Morgan practically glued to the back end of her Crown Victoria.

“Elle, why did you do it?” Elle glances at JJ. “Why did you work your ass off to get into the FBI and then shit it all away over someone like Lee?”

Elle’s hands grip the wheel so hard her knuckles are white. She had asked herself the same question hundreds of times. “What do you care?”

JJ stares at her hands, imagining her gun in them. “Three times I’ve killed an officer in the line of duty,” she explains, taking responsibility for the death of Myron Phillipe. “And each time I’ve wanted to know why they would turn on everything they purported to believe in; everything I believe in. Since they aren’t around to ask, I thought I’d ask you.” She turns to look at Elle. “You and I both know you killed him in cold blood. I know it sure as I’m sitting here you stalked him and killed him. Maybe you wanted praise, maybe you wanted to right the wrong you did that got him released, but whatever your reason it ended your career. So why the fuck did you do it? Why was he the one that meant more than your badge?”

Elle hates the tears that roll down her cheeks. She glances at Morgan in the rearview mirror and makes a decision. She starts to slow at the next yellow light. Just as it goes red, she slams on the accelerator and shoots through the intersection, leaving Morgan stuck at the light.


	13. Chapter 13

JJ grips the door and armrest in fear. She glances in the side view mirror and sees Morgan get blocked by the traffic that now moves into the intersection with the green light. JJ turns and looks at Elle. Elle flips on her lights and sirens and careens around the next corner, trying to put as much space between her and Morgan as possible.

“What the hell are you doing?” JJ demands

When Elle doesn’t answer, JJ grabs her phone. Before she can hit a number on it, Elle grabs it and smashes it against the steering wheel. JJ is stunned.

“You’ve lost your fucking mind!”

JJ starts to move her hand towards her gun. Elle finally speaks. “Don’t do it, JJ. I don’t plan to stop until we get where we can talk in private. I don’t need Morgan breathing down my neck while we hash this out. I won’t hurt you I just want to talk.”

“Then talk,” JJ says with irritation in her voice.

“Not yet. Soon.”

JJ can only hope Morgan has called and gotten the Seattle cops tracing the GPS on the Crown Vic. She waits impatiently as Elle drives out of the city. They cross over Lake Washington, heading East on I-90. JJ tries to take in as many signs as she can just in case she gets a chance to call for help. Elle finally pulls into a parking area at Clarke Beach Park on Mercer Island.

The women sit in silence for a few minutes. Finally JJ shakes her head in frustration.

“So did you bring me here to talk or just to hear me breathe?”

Elle slowly turns and looks at JJ. “She told me you never loved me. That you just wanted to use me for a quick fuck and then move on.”

JJ starts to speak, then stops. She takes a deep, centering breath. “That’s…not exactly right. Elle, you were my friend and I respected you. I knew we could never have sex because it would have meant more to you than it did to me. And that wouldn’t be fair to you.”

Elle gets out of the car and starts to walk along the path to the beach. JJ sighs and follows her.

“Elle! Wait!”

Elle stares out at the water. JJ walks up beside her. Part of her wants to reach out and lay a comforting hand on her old friend. But the other part fears it may be taken the wrong way. So she just stands there, letting Elle gather her thoughts.

“I swear to you, JJ, I don’t remember the night you…you said I…you know…”

JJ nods. “I believe you,” she says quietly.

Elle just nods, glad for that at least. “All I ever wanted to be was a cop. My dad was a cop, killed in the line of duty. But when I heard about the BAU I knew  _that’s_   what I wanted to do. I could help stop these bastards before they destroyed families and communities.” She pulls a flask out of the inside pocket of her coat and takes a swig. She offers it to JJ, who declines. She takes another drink and caps the flask though she doesn’t put it away. “I fought hard to get the position. I even asked Morgan what I could do to convince Gideon and Hotch to give it to me. And I proved myself, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did,” JJ nods kindly. “And you did a good job with the team.”

“But I never felt   _part_   of the team. I don’t know why but I never quite felt the camaraderie with the guys that I should have. And I see that Emily has that with them. God, you don’t know how much that pisses me off.” She takes another drink from the flask, this time not bothering to cap it. “She has everything I ever wanted: the job…and you.” She slowly turns and stares at JJ. “But she doesn’t quite have you right now, does she.”

JJ sees the dead look in Elle’s eyes. “Elle, what are you saying?”

“You want to know why I turned my back on the badge? I didn’t, JJ. The badge turned its back on me. Hotch, Gideon…you…you all turned your backs on me. I needed you after Garner attacked me and none of you were there for me.”

“Elle, we tried to be! But we still had to work! Cases don’t stop because we need to grieve or support a friend. For God’s sake, Hotch’s wife was killed and we had to leave the funeral for a fucking case!” JJ’s fear has turned to fury. “He needed us and we had to leave. He gets that. How could you not get that? Does another family have to suffer because our team is hurting? Would it have been okay for no one to go after the bastard that killed your father because they had a personal crisis?”

Elle slaps JJ across the face. “Don’t you DARE bring him into this!”

JJ barely flinches from the smack. “What’s the matter? Can’t face the truth? Life goes on, Elle. Crimes still happen, people still die, and shit still hits the fan no matter what the hell is happening in our personal life. We stayed in touch with you, we encouraged you, and we were happy when you came back. It was you who changed! And we tried to help you but you shut us out. You hid in a fucking bottle.” She grabs the hand holding the flask. “And it looks like you never climbed back out! Drinking on the job? Yeah, your dad would be so proud!”

JJ knows the last statement is a low blow but she couldn’t stop herself from saying it. Elle’s moves so fast JJ barely has time to duck as the woman’s gun slams into JJ’s head, just missing her temple. JJ stumbles from the blow. Before she can recover Elle kicks out, catching JJ in the hip and sending her to the ground. As Elle kicks out again, JJ grabs her foot and twists the ankle, using her own body weight to roll the taller woman to the ground. She levels a punch to Elle’s jaw, stunning the woman. JJ scrambles back from her foe and draws her gun as Elle levels her own at JJ.

The former friends stare at each other through the sights of their service guns. JJ can hear sirens coming. She sees Elle’s eyes briefly flicker towards the parking area and knows she hears them, too.

“Elle, no one has to know about this. We’re the only two here. Please, Elle, if you ever cared for me: don’t take me from my son…and don’t make me kill another law enforcement officer,” JJ pleads.

* * *

 

Morgan leaps out of the Tahoe. He pauses at Elle’s car long enough to confirm the women aren’t in it. He looks around and sees the sign pointing towards the waterfront. He races down the path…and finds JJ and Elle walking back up the path. He can tell they’ve obviously fought.

“JJ! Are you okay?”

JJ nods. “Yeah. Fine.”

“We tried to call but Garcia said your phone wasn’t on. What the hell?”

“It broke.”

“Broke?” He glances at Elle, then back to JJ. “How’d it break?”

“It just broke. Let it go, Derek. Please.”

She stares into his eyes. He looks like he is about to protest but something in those sad blue eyes stops him. Finally he nods.

“Fine. For now at least. Ride with me. Hotch got the warrant.” He looks at Elle. “Abry expects you to make the arrests.”

She nods and heads to her car. JJ stares at her a moment then runs over to her.

“Elle,” she whispers, “how much have you had to drink?”

“I’m fine, JJ. I’ve got a hell of a tolerance built up,” she mutters as she climbs behind the wheel.

JJ watches as the woman flips on her lights and sirens and tears out of the parking area. Morgan walks up to JJ and lays a hand on her shoulder.

“JJ…Jennifer…are you sure you’re okay?”

JJ nods. “Yes. Let’s go.”

She heads to the SUV and climbs in. Morgan tears out of the lot, calling Hotch. “Elle’s on her way. JJ’s with me.” He glances at JJ. “She seems fine. Looks like they talked and stuff. See you at the apartments.”

He disconnects and slides a look at JJ. “Straighten yourself up a bit, JJ. You can’t hide the bruises but maybe you can at least delay the inquisition.”

JJ flips the visor down and for the first time gets a look at her face. She says a silent thank you that it’s dark outside as it will mask the bruise coming up on her temple and the fiery red of her cheek where she’d been slapped.

“Shit. Emily’s going to kill me,” she mutters.

Morgan can’t help but smile.


	14. Chapter 14

By the time they arrive at the apartment complex it is full dark. Hotch and the SWAT team are already on site. He notices JJ is unusually silent but figures it’s because she is concerned with stopping the people that had caused Emily’s injuries. Morgan had not told Hotch about Elle’s escape moves. As JJ and Morgan start to put on their vests, Hotch gives them the run down of how the raid will go.

“I’ll knock and request entrance. If it’s denied or ignored, SWAT will batter down the door. Morgan, you, Rossi and two officers will enter, clearing to the right. I’ll be behind you with Greenaway and—”

“NO!” JJ blurts, fear on her face. Hotch turns to her.

“Is there a problem, Agent Jareau?” His use of her title showing he thinks her objection is personal, not professional.

“Yes. No. Maybe. Shit. Morgan, can you give us a second?”

Morgan nods and moves away. JJ looks around to make sure no one is within earshot.

“Hotch, she’s been drinking. There’s a flask in the inside pocket of her jacket. Or at least there was. She may have been smart enough to stash it in the car. I don’t know.”

Hotch stares at JJ’s face. “What happened to your face, JJ?”

“I…we…Hotch, just worry about that later, please? Just…she’s been drinking. She shouldn’t make entry into the apartment.”

Hotch stares at the media liaison. In the past he had always trusted her judgment. He saw no reason to change that now. He walks away from her.

“Greenaway. A moment, please?” She walks over to him. Hotch looks around to make sure they are alone. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

Elle’s eyes narrow. She looks beyond him to JJ, shooting daggers with her eyes. JJ just stares back calmly. Elle looks back at Hotch.

“I had a couple sips of scotch. I’m fine, Agent Hotchner.”

“That may be, but you’re not going in. I won’t have this op screwed up or someone hurt because you have a drinking problem.”

“FUCK YOU! I don’t work for you, Hotchner. Or have you forgotten that?”

Hotch maintains his cool. “You’ll remain out here or I’ll ask one of these officers to perform a breathalyzer test on you. Even if you aren’t drunk, you’re ‘couple of sips’ will cost you your badge. Are you willing to risk that again?”

Elle wants to protest but she knows Hotch will do exactly what he said. It wasn’t just an empty threat. She turns away.

“Fine. But the bust still belongs to Reus and me.”

Hotch nods. “Of course. But you better sober up before you write it up.”

He turns and walks back to JJ. “We’ll discuss this more later. I saw her bruises, too.”

JJ just nods, knowing she’s going to need to come completely clean with her boss before the case is over.

“You’ll be with me and Reid,” Hotch tells her as he goes to prepare the teams to enter.

JJ finishes getting her vest on. Suddenly the remnants of her phone are tossed into the back end of the Tahoe. JJ looks and sees Elle just walking away. The blonde sighs. When had things gotten so bad for Elle? And did the BAU team really have any responsibility for it or not? JJ shakes her head. There would be time to worry about that later. Right now there were two unsubs to take into custody.

Hotch’s team heads up the west side stairwell as Morgan’s team went up the east side. When they converge on apartment 308, Hotch bangs on the door.

“ALBERT AND SALLY SMITH THIS IS THE FBI! WE HAVE A WARRANT! OPEN UP!”

He waits a few minutes then steps away from the door. He nods to the SWAT officer with the battering ram and nods. The man steps forward and slams the door open. Morgan enters first, leading his team through the right side of the apartment. Hotch leads his team to the left.

“CLEAR!”

“CLEAR!”

“CLEAR”

“CLEAR!”

Hotch sighs. The place has been stripped clean. The unsubs were in the wind.  
________________________________________________________________________

Back at the precinct, the team collapses into chairs around the conference table. They had missed their chance to stop these two killers because they hadn’t put the puzzle pieces together in time. The only bright side was Garcia had found a white panel van registered in the name of one of the Smith’s foster siblings. Since that man lived in Florida they are sure the Smith’s are the ones using that van.

“Now what?” Morgan asks.

“Their mission isn’t finished,” Rossi points out. “They aren’t going to stop until it is.”

“True. But who says they have to finish it here,” Reid says. “They could go anywhere this time of year and find all the Santa’s they want.”

“But Seattle means something to them. So did San Diego.”

Reid frowns. “San Diego meant something to Albert. Seattle means something to Sally. What are we missing?”

Hotch hits speed dial and is not surprised when Garcia answers even though it is nearly midnight in Quantico, VA.

“Garcia, have you been able to, uh, see any medical records yet for Sally Smith?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. Her disability stems from a beating she took from one of her mother’s John’s. He beat her so bad she has permanent brain damage. But amazingly, the beating that hurt her also did something to jump start her creative side. She could suddenly draw amazing pictures. For a while it looked like she could be the next big thing art-wise but she was so scared of everyone except her brother that their social workers wouldn’t let anyone exploit her talents.”

“What do you want to bet the Carpenter’s made sure she got art supplies each Christmas?” Rossi poses rhetorically. “I bet Santa even told her that when she got older her talent would take her places she couldn’t imagine.”

“And there’s the lie!” Reid states. “We need to talk to the Carpenters. Whatever clowns or Santa’s said to the kids is what the adults are getting revenge for. Those are the lies!”

Hotch nods. “You’re right.” He glances at his watch. “It’s early enough to chance a call tonight. Garcia, get the info to Reid and Rossi.”

“Yes, sir.”

Reid and Rossi leave the room to find a private place to make the call. Hotch now looks at Mulroney, JJ and Morgan.

“Detective Mulroney, can you help Morgan with the paperwork on the raid? I want to make sure we have everything down correctly for your Captain.”

“Yes, sir.”

Morgan and Mulroney head out to get with the SWAT commander on the drudgery of paperwork. Hotch closes the door and sits down, staring at JJ.

“Are you ready to tell me what the hell is going on with you and Elle?”

JJ sighs, wrapping her arms around herself defensively. “Not really. But I guess I owe you a few explanations.” Hotch just nods and waits. JJ gets up and starts to pace. “Elle and I bonded because we were the only two women out on the road with the team and, well, we are both bisexual. It didn’t take long for me to realize that she’d developed a crush on me. I never encouraged it but I never really tried to discourage it, either.”

“JJ, her having a crush on you isn’t your fault. You know that, right?”

“I know. But a couple times…we sort of made out. God, I can’t believe I’m having to tell you this.” Her face is bright red. Hotch feels for her but knows she has to be completely honest so he can figure out what is going on here in Seattle. “Anyway, one night it became obvious she wanted more. I had been single a while and, well, you know how it can be.” Hotch nods understandingly. “Well, one thing led to another and I suddenly knew if I let it go any farther it wouldn’t be fair to Elle. I just didn’t feel the same way she did and I wasn’t going to lead her on.” She sighs. “I told her I would never date a co-worker. That I wouldn’t risk my badge to break that rule. It just seemed kinder than telling her I didn’t like her the way she liked me.”

“And then Emily Prentiss destroyed that rule and now she knows you told her a lie,” Hotch finishes.

“Yeah. Mostly. Truth is, Hotch, until Emily, I really did believe what I told Elle.” JJ smiles thinking of Emily. “But Emily made me realize that the rule just really sucked. I knew we could be together and I was even willing to transfer to stay with her.”

“God forbid! Don’t even joke about that, JJ,” Hotch says with a smile.

“Thank you,” she says sincerely. “Anyway, one night after Elle resigned she came to my apartment. She was drunk and she…she tried to…she sort of…” JJ just can’t finish the statement. It is never easy to say you were nearly raped, especially when the attacker was a friend. She takes a deep breath and just says it. “Shit, Hotch, if I hadn’t punched her she would have raped me. I know that as sure as we’re standing here.” JJ won’t look at Hotch but she can feel the tension radiating from her boss…her friend.

“Son of a bitch,” Hotch mutters. “And you didn’t report her, did you?”

JJ shakes her head. “She’d already resigned from the FBI. I just…didn’t want to cause more trouble for her. She told me she doesn’t remember coming to see me that night. I believe her. Hotch, she’s got a serious drinking problem.”

“What happened tonight, JJ?”

“Earlier she made some remarks about Emily again. I punched her. When Morgan and I got to the hospital I saw her leaving Emily’s room. I thought she’d done something. But Emily said they’d just talked; that Elle needed to know what had happened to Reus in that building. When Morgan and I left she was waiting for us. She said she wanted me to ride with her so I did. She ditched Morgan, broke my phone and cautioned me against pulling my gun. She said she wanted to talk but I didn’t completely believe her. I was scared if I pulled my gun she’d wreck on purpose so I just let her drive.”

JJ starts to pace again. She tells Hotch of the long trip to the beach and following Elle down to the waterfront.

“Fucking Christ, JJ! She could have killed you down there!” Hotch explodes.

“I know, Hotch. I’m sorry. But I asked her what I wish I could have asked Battle, Weston and Phillipe. I need to know why these cops are pissing away everything they worked for and why they turned their back on everything I still believe in. I need to know, Hotch. I have to understand.”

“I see. Did she answer?”

“Sort of. She said the badge turned on her. Blamed us for not backing her after the Garner and Lee incidents. I called her on that bullshit. She had already pulled out her flask and had a few sips. She had talked about becoming a cop to honor her dad. I grabbed the hand with the flask and pointed out her dad would be so proud of her now.” She unconsciously raises a hand to her head. “That’s when she tried to club me with her gun. We exchanged a few blows and both ended up on the ground.”

JJ closes her eyes against the memory. Hotch knows he’s not going to like how the fight ended. She opens her eyes and looks her boss in the eye.

“We…we both had our guns out and leveled at each other. I begged her not to take me away from Henry…and not to make me kill another law enforcement officer. I’m not sure which part got through to her but she holstered her gun and stood up. I followed her up the path and didn’t put my own gun away until I saw Morgan.”

“JJ…Jennifer, she is unstable. She isn’t safe on the streets. We need to tell her captain.” He steps closer. “And you need to tell Emily. She should know Elle is this dangerous.”

“I will. I’ve told her some. I’ll tell her the rest. I promise.”

“Good. I’m off to speak with Abry. Get someone to drive you to the hospital. I have a feeling Emily will be happy to see you no matter what time it is.”

JJ smiles. “Yeah, she will. And I  _really_   need to see her. She’ll still the unease in my heart with just a word.”

Hotch smiles. “The ones we love always can. See you in the morning, JJ.”

“Night, Hotch.”


	15. Chapter 15

JJ uses her badge to get past the visiting hour curfew. One thing about medical personnel, they recognize that law enforcement makes the same kind of sacrifices they do so there is some leniency with the rules. She eases open Emily’s door and sees the brunette sleeping, the light from the emergency lights bathing her in an ethereal glow. JJ’s heart steadies just seeing her wife.

She eases the door closed and goes to the side of the bed. She lifts Emily’s hand up and kisses it, her other hand stroking the woman’s cheek. One brown eye eases open. A smile crosses Emily’s face.

“Hi, Sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” JJ apologizes.

Emily chuckles and opens her other eye. “You didn’t. I was faking sleep so the nurse wouldn’t bug me for a vitals check.”

JJ chuckles. “Not exactly the best way to get well, honey.”

“They tell me to rest then wake me up every time I fall asleep to poke and prod me. How do I get rest if they do that?” JJ laughs, knowing Emily is right. The brunette raises a hand to brush aside a lock of JJ’s hair that is blocking the blue eyes she loves. JJ leans away from the touch. Emily raises an eyebrow.

“Jen, what’s wrong?”

“N—nothing. We can…talk about it later. Maybe…tomorrow…” JJ’s voice chokes off as tears she had been fighting threaten once more. Emily grabs the bed remote and raises it to a sitting position.

“Jennifer, what the hell is going on? What happened on the raid? Did you get hurt? Did someone else?” Emily is panicking; sure something had happened to one of her teammates.

JJ just shakes her head. “No. How…how did you know about the raid?”

Emily tries to get a better look. She thinks there may be a bruise near JJ’s temple but she wasn’t quite sure. “Garcia called to check on me. She told me. Did you catch them?”

JJ shakes her head again. “No.”

The second time JJ shakes her head, Emily knows she see a bruise. “Son of a bitch…Jen, what happened to your face?”

JJ slowly looks up. Emily’s heart breaks at the shame in her wife’s eyes. “Oh, Jen…” Emily brings her hand up and moves the lock of hair, exposing the bruise hidden beneath. “Oh, sweetie. Come here.”

Emily scoots to the left side of the bed. She drops the safety rail and opens her arms. JJ knows she shouldn’t but she needs to feel Emily’s protective embrace. She climbs onto the bed and lets Emily hold her, stroking her back and murmuring words of love and encouragement. JJ breathes in the scent of her wife. Even without the perfume and even with the sterile stench of hospital bedclothes, JJ can still find Emily in the smell. And it further helps steady her nerves.

“I love you so much,” she says weakly.

“I love you, too.” Emily kisses JJ’s forehead. “You can tell me anything, Jen. I’m not going to judge you or think less of you. I know this case has messed with your head and it’s got nothing to do with the murders and everything to do with Greenaway. What happened tonight, baby?”

JJ cuddles closer and tells Emily everything. Emily is thankful she is no longer hooked to the heart monitor because it would have been sending alarms out all over the hospital. When JJ finally finishes, she glances up at Emily. Emily sees the doubt in the blue eyes. She takes JJ’s chin and lifts her head enough to place a gentle kiss on her lips.

“I love you, Jennifer Prentiss. Nothing you’ve just told me changes that.”

JJ bursts into tears again. She buries her head in Emily’s shoulder and cries herself to sleep. Emily’s arms never release her wife. She holds her all night, getting very little sleep herself as she contemplates what the hell she is going to do to Elle Greenaway. The woman needs to be stopped. And Emily is going to be the one to stop her.

* * *

 

At 8 a.m. the next morning Elle Greenaway stares at her captain in shock. “So without due process, without the benefit of the doubt, you’re going to take his fucking word over mine? I’ve worked here three fucking years, Captain. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

Abry is standing behind his desk. “Yes, it does. That’s why I had your unmarked searched and your locker, Greenaway.”

Elle blushes. She had stashed her flask in the car but forgot to get it out after the failed raid. And she knew there had been two bottles of booze hidden in the bottom of her locker.

“You can opt for voluntary alcohol rehabilitation or I can take your badge. Your choice.”

“What kind of choice is that? Fuck, Captain!” Elle paces the office for a few minutes. “Look, at least let me finish this case, sir. For Reus.”

“Not a chance, Greenaway. You’re lucky I’m giving you the option for rehab. Now, make your choice,” he tells her.

She stares at him a minute. She pulls her gun off her hip and tosses it on his desk. She takes her badge from around her neck. She stares at it one last time then tosses it beside her gun.

“Go fuck yourself.” She storms out of the office.

“You’ve got 60 days to change your mind and get clean, Greenaway. I hope to hell you take it,” Abry shouts at her back.

Elle looks towards the conference room. Aaron Hotchner stands in the door, staring at her. She hates that she sees sympathy in his eyes. Twice now he had taken her career. This time she’d take something more from him.

* * *

 

As Elle leaves, Hotch turns to his team and closes the conference room door. “Elle Greenaway is no longer part of this investigation.”

Everyone exchanges looks but no words are said. Morgan looks at JJ but she refuses to meet his eyes. Hotch moves to the case boards.

“Garcia worked through the night trying to find anything that could help us. She is still cross referencing anyone they may have come into contact within the foster care system or in law enforcement who may have handled their cases. If she can—”

“The John!” Reid exclaims out of the blue.

“What?” Hotch asks.

“Tell Garcia to look up the name of the John that hurt Sally. He may be on their target list or they may be using his alias or even guilting him into helping them hide out,” Reid clarifies.

“Good idea.” Hotch hits the speed dial and a very tired Garcia answers.

“I’m still searching, sir,” she says through a yawn.

“Garcia, what was the name of the man who hurt Sally?” Reid asks.

“Ooo, once again Boy Wonder comes through!” She suddenly sounds more alert. “His name was…shit. John Doe. Says he disappeared before the police could arrest him and their mother wouldn’t give him up.” She pauses. “Hmm…wait. This is strange. Oh, shit! I missed something big, sir. Their mother is still alive.”

“Address?”

“On it’s way to your email as we speak. I am so sorry, sir.” Garcia is mortified.

“Garcia, you have saved our butts more times than I care to count. And we missed it, too. Keep up the great work you do and forget about this one,” Hotch consoles her. “And have another Hotchlate chip cookie for you efforts.”

Garcia giggles. “You rock, sir. Go get ‘em!”

Hotch hangs up and looks up to see his team and SDPD Detective Mulroney staring at him.

“Hotchlate chip cookie?” Rossi asks.

Hotch just grins and walks out the door to let Abry know what is going on.

* * *

 

At 9 a.m. Emily signs the last of her discharge papers. One of her overnight nurses is giving her a lift to the hotel and had also given her some hospital scrubs to change into for the ride. While she waits for the nurse to get off work, Emily gets some cash out of the ATM and uses the money to buy a disposable phone. Standing outside near the parking lot she dials a number from memory. When the call is answered she gets right to the point.

“I need an address.”

“Well, well, well…Emily Prentiss as I live and breathe,” a British voice chimes.

“No time for chit chat. I need an address. A Seattle cop. Elle Greenaway.”

She hears typing but the voice still teases her. “So is this a one night stand you want to look up for another quickie?”

“Something like that,” she answers emotionlessly, refusing to get drawn into much of a conversation with her old contact.

A few minutes later she has the address and is glad to hear it’s a single family home. The neighbors won’t be able to hear a thing. She tosses the disposable phone in the trash just as the nurse arrives in the parking lot.

Just over an hour later, Emily has rented a car and is on her way to the address she had been given. If Elle isn’t home, she’ll just have to wait for her. Inside, of course.


	16. Chapter 16

After arriving at the elder Smith woman’s address, the team had located the panel van a block and a half over. They watch the house for nearly an hour, seeing movement inside but unsure who it is. They decide to send Reid to the door under the guise of being a poll taker.

With clipboard and fakes surveys in hand, he walks up to the door and rings the bell. Everyone is surprised to see the door open almost right away.

“Hello, my name is Derek Morgan and I’m with the Greater Seattle Visitor’s Bureau. We are trying to find out what places locals, like yourself, enjoy visiting so that we can do a better job promoting those places to tourists. Do you have a few minutes to help me?”

Sally thinks the man at the door is very cute and she wants to help him. But she knows Albert would be upset. “I…I can’t. My brother isn’t here and he doesn’t like me to talk to strangers.”

Reid gives her a kind smile. “I don’t blame him. If I had a sister as pretty as you I’d want to protect her from strangers, too.”

Sally blushes, her expressions childlike. “Do you want to see my pictures? I draw real pretty stuff.”

“I’d love to see your pictures. Can you bring them out here?”

Sally bites her lip, trying to decide if she should disobey Albert or not. “Albert said I had to stay inside with Mama.”

“Oh, is your mother here?”

“Yes but she’s not allowed to get up and…oh…oh…oh…” she starts to wave her hands, obviously very agitated. “I shouldn’t say that! Bad girl!” She starts to hit herself.

Reid drops his clip board and grabs her hands. “No! Stop! Don’t hurt yourself. HOTCH!”

Reid wrestles with the deceptively strong small woman. Only with the help of Rossi and Morgan do they finally get her subdued. Hotch calls for an ambulance and warns the dispatcher that the victim is in an extreme state of agitation and could be a danger to herself and others.

Hotch and Mulroney head into the house to see if they can find Mrs. Smith. They only need to follow the smell of blood. In a back bedroom they find her; lifeless eyes staring up at a ceiling covered in cast off blood. She had been stabbed multiple times and her neck slashed. Then men turn their heads, knowing the killers have added another name to their death list.

“Where the hell’s the brother?” Mulroney asks.

“I don’t know. But if he sees all the activity here he won’t be coming back. We need to sit on his van but something tells me he won’t hesitate to switch vehicles now.”

“You think he has another van?”

“Maybe. Or he’ll steal something until he has a chance to buy a new one. Either way, this place is a dead end.”

Disgusted with Albert Smith and with the case as a whole, Hotch leaves the house. He finds JJ, Reid, Morgan and Rossi in the front yard watching the now sedated Sally Smith getting loaded into an ambulance.

“One down, one to go,” Rossi scores it for them.

“And where the hell do we look for him now?” Hotch wonders.

JJ sighs. “I’ll call Garcia.” She pulls out her phone and heads to one of the SUV’s for privacy.

* * *

 

After leaving the precinct, Elle had driven to her gym and gotten in an intense workout. She had even taken a turn at the heavy bag, alternating picturing it as Hotch or JJ.

When that no longer helps take the edge off her anger, she heads for her house. It was too early for her favorite bar to be open but she could drink for free at home anyway. And there no one would judge her for doing so.

She walks into her house and disables her alarm immediately resetting it as she shuts the front door. She tosses her keys and wallet onto the table in the hallway. Until this morning she would have also placed her badge there. She swallows the tears that threaten and moves into the small room to the right of the hallway. She goes straight to the bar in the corner and pours herself a double of Scotch. Just as she raises the glass to her lips she hears the unmistakable sound of the hammer of a gun being slowly cocked back to the ready position.

Elle is impressed with herself for keeping her hand from shaking as she puts the untouched drink back down on the counter.

“You can turn around if you’d like,” Emily says.

Elle slowly turns around. The FBI agent is dressed all in black, including gloves. She sits in the chair in the corner of the room. The look in her eyes is nothing short of deadly. Elle had never even sensed her presence. Elle looks at the .45 pointing at her and back up to Emily. She knew enough to know that the gun was not a service weapon and could never be traced back to Emily.

“Are you going to kill me?” She asks, her voice not betraying her fear.

“You put your hands on her even after she said no.” There is no need to clarify of whom Emily speaks. “You kidnapped her. You hit her. You slapped her. You leveled your gun at her with the intent to kill her. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you for the hell you’ve put my wife through.”

“You’re an FBI agent.”

“I’m a wife first.” Emily gives Elle an evil grin. “And you don’t want to know what I did before I became an agent with the BAU.”

Elle’s contact at Quantico had said there was a lot of mystery surrounding Prentiss’ background. Looking into the woman’s coal black eyes, Elle thinks she knows some of the answers.

“CIA assassin? Get real,” she says with more bravado than she feels.

Emily slowly stands from the chair. “I got past your alarm system. You had no idea I was here until I wanted you to know. Remember that.” She places her thumb on the hammer of the gun and squeezes the trigger, slowly lowering the hammer down. “Get yourself clean, Greenaway. My wife had a question for you and she deserves an answer. So sober up and get your life on track so you can answer her. If you don’t, we’ll meet again. Well, I’ll see you again. You won’t see me.”

Emily walks to the front door. Elle watches as the woman disables the alarm. Emily gives her a look, showing the detective just how easy it is for her to get in and out of places.

After Emily leaves, Elle drops into a nearby chair, her legs shaking too hard to hold her up. She reaches for the drink she had poured earlier. With shaking hands she brings it to her lips…and then sees herself in the mirror on the far wall. The woman in the reflection is broken. Her hair is a mess, her eyes are bloodshot, her hands shaking and not just because of the scary confrontation she had just had. They shake because there is not enough alcohol in her body. She is a drunk. A functioning drunk but still a drunk. When the fuck had that happened?

She throws the glass in her hand against the mirror, shattering both. She stumbles to her feet and goes into the other room. She picks up the last official picture taken of her father and slides down the wall to the ground.

“Help me, Daddy. How the hell do I fix my life? How? I just don’t know if I’m strong enough to do it alone anymore.”

She looks down at her hands and realizes she hadn’t just picked up his picture. She has also picked up his old service revolver…which she has kept in working condition.

* * *

 

Emily returns the rental car and catches their shuttle back to the hotel. Though feeling better than yesterday, the tension of the confrontation with Elle has taken its toll on her body. She wants a shower and a nap. In her room she peels off her clothes and heads into the bathroom. She turns the shower on as hot as she can, wanting to sterilize herself after being at the detectives’ house.

She is still in there when the door to the room opens. JJ stops partway into the room.

“Morgan,” she says quietly to the agent walking down the hall. He stops and turns. “Someone is in my shower.”

Hotch had ordered the team to take a break until two p.m. while doctors worked on getting Sally coherent. Morgan had accompanied JJ to the hotel so she could pick up clothes for Emily, who would be released later that day. He had also come because he was scared Greenaway would try something. They had seen Greenaway storm out of the precinct and finally heard the whole reason why. Would she be crazy enough to lie in wait for JJ in the hotel room?

Both agents pull their guns and move slowly into the room. Morgan eases the door shut so that it makes no sound. He steps ahead of JJ and moves to the bathroom door. It is not shut all the way and he can see a brunette reflected in the fogged shrouded mirror. Just as he is about to announce himself, JJ starts to chuckle. He looks at her, worried she’d finally snapped.

She holds up the medical bracelet Emily had cut off earlier. Morgan rolls his eyes as he holsters his gun.

“Our paranoia almost caused me to see Prentiss naked. Why do I feel like she’d cut my eyes out for that,” he jokes.

JJ laughs. “I’d have defended you. What the hell is she doing here anyway?”

“Nurses probably got tired of being felt up,” he says with a wink, glad to see JJ smiling.

“Probably.” She lays a hand on his arm. “Thanks, Derek.”

He gives her a kiss on the forehead. “Any time, Jayje. Now, go check on your wife.”

JJ nods, waiting for him to leave so she can throw the safety bolt and the flip the security latch. She then slowly undresses and makes her way into the bathroom. “I heard they had kicked a pervert out of the hospital for groping nurses. I didn’t realize it was you.”

Emily opens the stall door and smiles. “A ‘hi, honey, good to see you’ would have been nicer, Jen.”

“I’ll save nice for later. Right now I want naughty.”

JJ steps into the shower and wraps her arms around Emily, careful of the waterproof bandage on the left side. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for last night.” She runs her fingers into Emily’s hair and pulls her into a deep kiss. As it ends she draws her tongue along her wife’s lips. “Thank you.”

Emily just nods and draws JJ into another deep kiss. Their hands roam each other’s bodies. Emily slowly turns JJ around and has JJ brace her hands against the wall. JJ just moans as Emily’s body moulds against her back. Emily thrusts her center against JJ’s ass has her hands cup full breasts, her thumbs teasing hard nipples.

“Oh, yes, Em…” JJ whispers.

JJ’s hips thrust back to meet each of Emily’s thrusts. Emily’s hands leave JJ’s breasts, trailing down her ribs, across her stomach, over the tops of her thighs.

“Please, Em. Can’t. Wait.”

Emily’s right hand slides between JJ’s legs. She glides over soft fur and into folds thick with JJ’s desire. She brings her left hand up and uses it to turn JJ’s head. She captures the blonde in a deep kiss as her right hand thrusts up and into the heat of JJ’s center.

JJ puts her foot up on the side of the tub, leaning back into her wife to give her as much access as she wishes to take. One hand comes off the wall to wrap around Emily’s head, maintaining the kiss as Emily’s thrusts get harder and deeper.

When she feels the orgasm is imminent, Emily breaks the kiss and spins JJ around. Dropping to her knees she pulls JJ’s clit into her mouth and thrusts up with her hand once more.

“OH! YES! EM! YES!”

JJ’s legs give out as the orgasm explodes from her. Had Emily not had the strength to guide her slowly to the floor of the shower, the liaison would have crashed down. JJ wraps her arms around Emily’s neck.

“You know…I had planned to seduce you.”

“Sorry,” Emily says unapologetically. “I needed you, Jen. I needed to feel you come. And I needed you to know I love you and would never, ever hurt you. And I will do everything in my power to protect you. Always.”

“I know all of that, Emily. I love you, too.”

They share another kiss. JJ finally gets the feeling back in her legs. They stand up and Emily grabs the shampoo. She turns JJ around and starts to wash her luxurious blonde mane. JJ groans with pleasure as Emily massages her scalp slowly, working the shampoo in and the tension out all at once.

Once the wash is done, Emily turns her around so they face each other. She adjusts the shower head so it starts to rinse JJ’s hair. As she concentrates on sluicing the soap from the blonde, the blonde concentrates on the jewels in front of her. She ducks her head to take one of Emily’s nipples in her mouth. Emily hisses a breath and arches into the soft mouth.

JJ slides her tongue across the valley of her wife’s breasts and begins to lavish attention on the other breast. Emily has forgotten all about JJ’s hair now. Her arms rest on JJ’s shoulders as she feels her hips tensing as her clit gets impossibly hard.

“Please, Jen. Please take me now,” Emily begs.

JJ reaches a hand down and feels Emily is as ready as she sounds. She immediately thrusts two fingers deep into her wife. Emily meets each thrust.

“More. Please…more.”

JJ adds a third and then a fourth finger. Her mouth never stops torturing the two breasts in front of her. She reaches down with her other hand to play with the hard jewel between Emily’s legs. Emily can’t speak anymore. She is reduced to guttural sound as JJ’s hands and mouth drive her up and over the precipice. With a roar she comes. JJ continues to thrust until Emily finally grabs her hands.

“Please…stop…gonna…kill me.”

JJ smiles and looks into chocolate brown eyes. “Never.”

They share another deep kiss. Their bodies stay close, their hands roam each other, mostly to ensure each other their wife is okay. When they get out of the shower, they dry each other off. Naked, they climb into bed together.

“I never even asked why you were here during the day. Did you catch them?”

“No. But the search Garcia is doing will take a while. Hotch wanted us to get some rest. I was actually coming here to get your clothes. What are you doing here anyway?”

Emily smiles. “The doctor signed my release early this morning. One of the overnight nurses offered to drop me off here since it was on her way home. I was going to text you later.”

“Ah, okay. Um, I don’t exactly have a phone yet. Haven’t had a chance to replace it.”

“Well, since I’m probably still sidelined, I can get one for you and bring it by the station later.”

“Thanks, Baby. And, uh, could you maybe text me the PowerPoint? And any pictures you have of you and Henry?”

Emily chuckles, kissing JJ’s cheek. “You know I will. Maybe I’ll take a picture or two of myself to surprise you.”

JJ laughs. “You know as well as I do that if you send me nude photos of yourself Garcia will find them. And you don’t want to consider where she might put them.”

Emily laughs. “Yikes! That’s true.”

JJ sets the alarm for noon and the two women fall asleep in each other’s arms.


	17. Chapter 17

“AAARRRGGGGHHH!!!” Albert Smith screams as he throws a trashcan across the alleyway. He kicks another one, laughing as a small cat hisses at him after being evicted from its’ temporary home. He makes a grab for the cat, cussing it when it slices his hand and takes off running. He had been planning to show the cat what happened to anyone and anything that crossed him.

He leans against the wall, his breath coming in labored gasps. His face is as red as a tomato. The skinny, poor excuse for a man had touched his sister. HIS sister! And then let others touch her, too. They would all pay. But the tall, goofy looking one would pay the dearest. He would skin the bastard alive.

She was put in an ambulance. That means they would take her to the hospital. And he knew exactly which one they would be going to. He had seen the cops inspecting his van. No problem. They hadn’t found his car yet. He makes his way two blocks north and retrieves his tan Escort. A small, car no one would ever notice. No one ever did. As he drives to the hospital, his right hand caresses the passenger seat, imaging his sister’s thigh below his hand.

“I’ll get you out, Sally. I promise, my love. I will get you out of there. And we will make the bastards pay just like we’ve made the other’s pay. No one lies or hurts us without paying a price.”

He parks a block from the hospital and walks casually towards the intake area. He has managed to control his breathing, calming himself. No one would look twice at him. His ability to blend in was one of his greatest talents. It’s why Santa’s, who had been warned to be careful, never knew he was there until too late.

He sits down in a chair in the waiting area, studying the movements of the staff. He sees several police officers gathered outside one particular treatment room. He knows that’s where they must have Sally. He needed a reason to get them away from the door. He sees a woman head down a hallway and step into the bathroom. Perfect. He gets up and walks confidently down the hall and walks into the bathroom. If someone other than the woman is in there he would simply pretend to have gone in by accident.

She is alone. As she steps out of the stall he grabs her and slams her head into the wall, stunning her. He kicks her a couple times, wounding her but not knocking her out completely. He then turns and walks nonchalantly out of the bathroom. He returns to the lobby, sitting in a seat closer to his sister’s room. A few minutes later another woman walks into the bathroom. A second later she races out screaming.

“HELP! SOMEONE’S BEEN ATTACKED! HELP!”

Albert grins as the cops race past him towards the commotion.

“Suckers,” he mutters.

He stands and walks up to the room that had been guarded. As if he’s supposed to be there, he opens the door and enters the room. He stops, staring at the scraggly bearded white man handcuffed to the bed.

“Who the fuck are you? Where’s Sally?”

“I ain’t know no Sally. Don’t try ta pin no rape on me, fucker,” the man says.

Albert sees red. His Sally isn’t here.

A few minutes later he walks out, leaving the hospital as he tries to figure out where the police may have taken his sister.

When the officers and doctors return to the room they find their pickpocket dead, his throat slashed.

* * *

 

Captain Abry shakes his head. “I get it, Hotchner. I still don’t like it.”

The FBI Chief had insisted that Sally Smith be brought to the precinct instead of a hospital. He knew Albert would try to find her and would probably attempt to get her back. By treating her in an interview room, the FBI and Seattle P.D. could better control access to her.

“I understand, Captain. And I promise, if things blow up I will take full responsibility,” Hotch assures him.

Abry just sighs, still thinking he should put a stop to this now. The door to the interview room opens and the doctor they had called in leans out.

“She’s stable now. She’s asking to see Derek Morgan.”

Hotch frowns, wondering why she’d want to see Morgan. He just nods and pulls his cell phone out. “Morgan, she wants to see you.” He listens. “I don’t know why but get down here.”

Morgan hangs up and stares at the ceiling of his hotel room. He had not gotten much sleep this case and it looks like he still wouldn’t. He debates whether or not to call JJ and Emily but decides to let them get some sleep. He grins evilly: or maybe no sleep if they are lucky.

Twenty minutes later he walks into the precinct and heads for the interview room. Hotch just nods as Morgan walks in.

“Ms. Smith? You wanted to see me?”

With hazy eyes, she frowns at him. “Who are you?”

Morgan glances at the doctor, who shrugs. “I’m Derek Morgan.”

Sally shakes her head, getting agitated again. “No. No Derek was cute and nice and sweet. He said I was pretty.”

Suddenly it dawns on Morgan what Reid has done. “ _I’m gonna kick your butt, Pretty Boy_ ,” he thinks to himself. He gives Sally an understanding smile. “I know just who you mean. The other Derek Morgan. I’ll track him down for you, Ms. Smith.”

Sally smiles at him. “Thank you, other Derek Morgan.”

Morgan nods and heads out. Hotch and Abry meet him.

“The ‘other’ Derek Morgan?” Hotch questions.

“My guess is Reid used my name when he knocked on the door. He said she was pretty and he was nice to her. She wants to see him.”

They walk down to the conference room and find Reid taking a nap in one of the chairs, his feet propped up on the table. Without warning, Morgan knocks the feet from the table. Reid panics and ends up crashing to the ground.

“Wakey, wakey, Derek Morgan,” Morgan taunts him.

Reid glares at him. “What the hell are you talking about? Why’d you wake me?”

“Sally Smith asked to see Derek,” Hotch explains. “Only she wants the nice Derek that called her pretty.” He raises an eyebrow. “Think you know who she’s talking about?”

Reid chuckles. “I think I do.” He gets to his feet. “Did she say why she wanted to talk to me?”

“No. Just asked for the cute and nice and sweet Derek who called her pretty.”

Reid grins. “Well, then that would definitely be me and not Derek”

Derek pops him on the shoulder and the three men head down to the conference room. Reid enters the room and Sally’s face lights up.

“Hi, Derek!”

Reid gives her a friendly smile. “Hi, Sally. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, I am. They gave me the stuff that makes me feel fluffy.”

Reid chuckles. “Fluffy? That sounds like fun.”

Sally nods. “Did you get my pictures from Mommy’s house?”

“Yes, we did. They are very pretty. You are really talented,” he praises her.

“Thank you,” she says shyly.

Reid places his hand on the gurney she lies on. “Sally, can I ask you a question about Albert?” She nods. “We want to find him and bring him back to you. Do you know where he went or what he might be driving?”

Sally thinks for a moment. “He was going to check on the next liar. We have had to make the liars see the evil of their ways. And the ones that are too far gone have to pay the ultimate penalty.”

“I see. Do you know how he was going to check on them?”

She shakes her head. “No. He wouldn’t tell me.” She gets excited. “But he did promise to bring me a special treat when he came back!”

Reid acts excited for her. “That’s great! What kind of surprise?”

“I don’t know. I hope it’s more paints. I like to use the bricks to make the pictures because I can do it so big.”

“You mean when you paint a picture on the walls in the alleys?” She nods. “I’ve seen those. They’re pretty. Have you done any recently?”

“Uh huh,” she says nodding. “Yesterday I painted one on the wall near a chocolate store.” She smiles at the memory. “It smelled really good.”

“I’ll bet it did,” Reid looks over his shoulder at the two-way window. He looks back at her. “Do you remember where it was?”

“No. I was napping in the back. He waked me up to do the picture. Then I went back to sleep when I was done.”

Outside, Hotch looks at Abry. “We need to find that chocolate store and the graffiti. He’ll be dumping another body there soon.”


	18. Chapter 18

When the alarm goes off, JJ groans. She was snuggled up to Emily and she felt more settled than she had since she had first seen who the lead detective on the case was. She hits the snooze button, not willing to leave the comfort of her wife’s arms just yet.

Emily smiles. She wasn’t quite ready to get out of bed, either. But she has other ideas about how to spend the time. She lifts JJ’s hand from her chest and starts to suck on one of the fingers. JJ moans, her hips thrusting reflexively. Emily moves to the next finger, twirling her tongue around the tip of it before sucking it in to the second knuckle.

“Emily…” JJ whispers, her blue eyes open but cloudy.

Emily smiles and takes the hand she holds and moves it down her own body, spreading her legs and easing it between them.

Without a word, JJ takes control of her hand back. She caresses Emily’s folds, sliding into her, feeling her hard clit against her palm. She leans up and captures Emily’s lips in a passionate kiss. Emily’s hips rise to meet each thrust of JJ’s hand. Almost too soon for either of them, Emily is tensing as the orgasm washes over her body.

JJ removes her hand and straddles her wife. She stares down into eyes filled with love. “I love you so much, Emily Prentiss. Thank you for loving me the way you do and for knowing what I need when I need it. No one has ever made me feel as worshipped and protected as you make me feel.” She leans down and kisses Emily as the exclamation point to her statement.

“I love you, too, Jennifer Prentiss. And I hope I always make you feel that way.” She rolls, putting JJ below her on the bed. As she starts to kiss her way along JJ’s neck, the alarm sounds again. JJ hits it blindly to snooze it once more. Emily just smiles, continuing her journey to JJ’s breasts.

And then her cell phone rings. Both women let out a groan of frustration. It’s Hotch’s ring tone.

Emily rolls off her wife and grabs the phone. “Prentiss.”

“Emily, is JJ with you?”

“I think she’s here somewhere,” Emily replies.

“We need her down here. We’ve got to get a press statement out fast. There’s an alley prepped for a body. We have to find it.”

Emily sits up and tosses the covers back. “We’ll be down as soon as we wake Morgan.”

“Morgan’s already here. I’m sending Rossi to pick you up. He should be there in 15 minutes.”

“We’ll be ready.”

“Um, Emily…”

“I know, I know. I’ll just be there to do paperwork. No fun and excitement for me.”

Hotch grins. “Marriage has been good for you.”

“Shut up…sir.”

Hotch just laughs as he disconnects. Emily looks at JJ. “Rossi will be here in 15. Hotch needs you to make a statement about an alley that’s been prepped for a body.”

JJ sighs and jumps up. The women jump in the shower to rinse off, each remembering the earlier shower fondly. In 14 minutes they are waiting out front for Rossi, who arrives right on time.

“Emily, nice of you to join us after your brief vacation,” he jokes.

She smiles at him. “Nice to be joining you, Dave.”

At the station, Hotch hands JJ a preliminary press release. She makes a few changes to it and then heads out to where press had been gathering since hearing a suspect was in custody. As she approaches the podium, the reporters vie for the best position.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, earlier today the Seattle Police, with the assistance of the FBI, took a suspect into custody in connection with the killing of men portraying Santa Claus. We are still searching for another person of interest. Albert Smith is believed to be still in the area. He may be on foot or he may steal a vehicle to remain mobile.” She holds up a DMV picture of Albert. “This is the man we are looking for. I have had the picture emailed to you for use in news releases. He is to be considered armed and extremely dangerous. If you see him, please do not approach him. Call 911 and let the police make the arrest.”

Just as she is preparing to tell about the alley, Emily jogs out and hands her another piece of paper. JJ scans it and looks at the crowd.

“I’ve just been informed of a possible car he is in: a 2006 tan Ford Escort. Oregon plates MGG-0618. Again, if you see this vehicle, please call the police.”

“Additionally, it has come to the attention of the investigative team that an alley has been prepared for another body. This is an alley near a chocolate shop and it will have graffiti on the wall similar to this.” She holds up a picture of previous tags. “We are asking the public to be on the lookout for this artwork. Please call the tip line if you see this picture or something similar. Are there any questions?”

“Is it true it’s a brother/sister team you are looking for?”

“At this time it appears that way however the investigation is still ongoing.”

“Is it true the police officer shot earlier this week succumbed to his wounds earlier this morning?”

JJ can’t hide the shock on her face. She turns and sees Emily has paled considerably. The brunette agent turns and hurries inside the station. JJ turns back to the reporters.

“At this time, I cannot confirm or deny that. We do ask for continued prayers for Detective Reus and his family.”

JJ ends the press conference and rushes back into the building. She explodes into the team meeting room. JJ is furious.

“What the fuck?”

Emily grabs her by the shoulders. “He’s fine. He’s still in ICU but getting better. The reporter was wrong, honey. No one sent you out there without all the information.”

JJ lets out a sigh and looks to her teammates. “Sorry, guys. But that one really threw me for a loop.”

Morgan grins. “The unflappable Jennifer Jareau gets thrown! Mark this day down in history.”

“No need. Eidetic memory,” Reid jokes.

JJ just grins. “Don’t forget who controls your paperwork, boys.”

* * *

 

Albert stares at the TV screen in the convenience store. Luckily the clerk wasn’t watching when Albert’s face was showing otherwise the teenager would have to die. Albert didn’t like killing kids but he’d do it if he had to. He sees where the woman is standing. He recognizes the building behind her.

“You have my sister, you bitch. I’m coming to get her even if I have to cut your pretty blonde head off to do it,” he mutters.

He leaves the store. The bitch had even told people about his Escort. No matter. He’d figure something out once he had Sally back. That’s all that mattered now: getting Sally back and shutting up the bitch that told people about him.

* * *

 

As Elle Greenaway walks into the station house she sees Abry walk into the conference room with Hotch and Rossi. She takes a deep breath to steady herself and heads towards them. When she walks into the room, all conversation stops. She is surprised to see Emily there but not surprised when Emily moves protectively in front of JJ.

Elle turns and closes the door behind. She then straightens up and stares at each person in the room, finally ending at Hotch.

“I made a lot of stupid mistakes in my life. But you were the one that chased me out of my dream job. I won’t be chased out of this one.” She turns to Abry. “I’ll take the 60 days, sir. My drinking has gotten out of control. Maybe…maybe if I can get a handle on that I can deal with all the other…issues that haunt me.” She slides a look to JJ. Emily’s lip curls in anger.

Abry smiles at her. “I’m glad to hear that. You’re a hell of a detective, Greenaway. I’d hate to lose you.”

Elle nods. She steps towards Emily. From her jacket pocket she pulls her father’s revolver. Everyone in the room tenses, Hotch and Morgan pulling their firearms even though Emily is in the line of fire. Elle stares into Emily’s eyes, turns the gun around and hands it to the woman grip first.

“Hold on to this. I’ll want it back when my head is on straight. I nearly ate it this morning after we talked.”

JJ’s eyes widen as she looks at Emily. The profiler reveals nothing but she knows Elle did this just to let the room know Emily had approached her. Emily takes the gun and flips the cylinder out, emptying the 6 bullets into her hand. Hotch and Morgan holster their guns.

Abry steps forward and puts his hand on Elle’s shoulder. “Come on, Greenaway. Let’s go sign the papers.”

She nods. Emily sees the satisfied smirk on the woman’s face and it is all she can do to not pistol whip it off. As the Seattle police duo leaves, Hotch closes the door. All eyes turn to Emily. She slowly turns and looks at JJ.

“What did you do, Emily?” JJ asks, her voice too calm for Emily’s good.

Emily stares into her wife’s eyes. “I did what I had to do to get her to leave you alone. And I’d do it again. She’s still alive, still walking. But it she ever lays a hand on you again, it will be another story.”

Emily doesn’t wait for a response, she walks out of the room, picturing the ways she could teach Elle another lesson. Praying the woman gives her the chance.

The men in the room all turn and look at JJ. The media liaison looks perplexed. Part of her is happy Emily stepped up and confronted Elle. Part of her is furious that Emily hadn’t said anything. She finally shakes her head. She’d deal with it later. She looks at Hotch.

“I’m going to go see if the tip lines have anything worth checking out. Excuse me.”

The men watch her go, knowing she really needed the time to process everything that had just happened. As JJ walks through the bull pen, she glances out the front door and sees Emily leaning on the retaining wall of the small patio area. Suddenly she has her answer. Whatever Emily did she did for love. And she would do it again. And it’s that sort of devotion that JJ had discovered the secretive profiler reserved only for the most important people in her life.

JJ smiles and makes her way outside. She leans on the rail beside the love of her life. Emily looks at her, surprised to see her standing there.

“I expect to hear everything when this is over.”

Emily smiles at her. “Okay.”

JJ squeezes her wife’s arm and heads back inside to check in with the tip line operators.


	19. Chapter 19

Garcia had obeyed Hotch’s order to take a nap. She had set three computers running three searches then leaned back in her chair. She had no sooner closed her eyes than one computer starts to sound the alert to let her know the search is done. She moans.

“There is no freakin’ way the search is done already!” She leans forward and checks to see which one is done. Her heart leaps from her chest. Not only had 2 hours gone by…but the search that finished shows that Albert Smith most likely has two firearms at his disposal.

“No, no, no, no…” she mutters as she hits the redial for Hotch.

“What do you have, Garcia?” Hotch answers, putting her on speaker.

“Guns. He’s got guns, sir.”

“Smith?” Hotch asks redundantly.

“Yes, sir. He bought one in California under the name of one of his foster siblings who died three years ago. And he bought one in Washington under the name of his foster father.”

“How the hell is getting the ID’s to do all this?” Hotch wonders.

“All he’d need is a good artist and a computer. Or he could find someone on the street to do it for him.”

“If he can find an ID on the street he could find a gun,” Rossi points out. “His sister made those ID’s. Smith doesn’t trust anyone but her so he would never risk a street thug giving him up for a better deal.”

“Good work, Garcia. Any luck on other vehicles?”

“Not yet, sir. He may have only had the two. I’ve also got a search running trying to find any apartments, houses or anything else that may have been rented by them using names from the foster care system. So far no hits.”

“Keep up the good work, Garcia.”

“You, too, sir. Get this sick reindeer off the street before he ruins Henry’s first Christmas.”

The team chuckles. “We’ll do that, Garcia,” Hotch promises as he disconnects.

“Hotch, if he has guns and we have his sister- -”

Abry bursts back into the room. “Albert Smith attacked a woman and killed a patient at a local hospital.”

“What? Why did he- -Sally. He was looking for Sally,” Hotch answers his own question.

“According to security tapes, he saw a room being guarded by cops and assumed his sister was there. It was a safe assumption since most psych patients are taken to that particular hospital. He followed a woman into the bathroom and beat her. When someone called for help the police, knowing their prisoner was cuffed to the bed, raced to help. When they got back they found their guy with his throat slashed. Smith was pissed his sister wasn’t there. Security cams catch him walking calmly from the building as if nothing was wrong.”

“Son of a bitch. Do you think he knows we have her here?” Morgan asks.

“I doubt it. But if he knows where we are he’ll be coming here to ask us. Reid, I want you to stay with Sally. She trusts you. If he shows up he may try to call out to her. Make sure she doesn’t answer him it will just agitate him more,” Hotch orders.

“Right.” Reid heads back down to Sally.

“Morgan, Rossi, we need to figure out where this guy might strike next. Without Sally I doubt he’ll worry about following the Christmas tree pattern on the map. That seems more like something she’d care about,” Hotch points out.

“If all he’s got is a Ford Escort he’s not going to be able to move a guy as big as Santa,” Morgan states. “We need to make sure we’re alerted to any stolen vans or trucks that could give him the privacy he needs for the kill.”

“Right.” Hotch turns to Abry. “Let the operators know if anyone calls in a stolen van or truck you need to be alerted immediately.”

“Wait a minute,” Rossi interrupts. “We’ve profiled the Santa’s are Sally’s thing, not Albert’s. He won’t continue the kills until he has her back.”

“But he could get ready to kill,” Morgan mentions.

“Maybe. But he’s been very careful up until the attack at the hospital. He’s made sure he’s never seen by security cams and the Santa’s are never given time to call for help. Why would he risk having one he’s not ready to kill?” Rossi insists. “It would be too risky. Hotch, his next move is to find Sally. Maybe we can force him to make that move.”

Hotch tilts his head, considering the idea for a moment. “Get JJ. We need to prepare another press conference.”

* * *

 

Emily is scrolling through some pictures on her phone, considering which ones to send JJ when the liaison gets her new phone. Truthfully, she is just doing it to pass time until Elle Greenaway leaves. When she sees the woman walk out, she puts her phone away. It doesn’t escape her notice that the last picture she looked at is one of JJ and Henry laughing at each other. It’s one of her favorites.

Elle sees Emily and pauses a moment before walking up to her. She wears a self-satisfied smile. “So, how pissed was JJ that you busted into my house and threatened me?”

“She wasn’t. See, JJ gets me,” Emily states. For some reason calling her wife “Jennifer” to this woman leaves a bad taste in the profiler’s mouth. “She knows I would only approach you because I love her and hate seeing her hurt. You hurt her, Elle. If you really cared for her, you’d see that.” Emily steps closer. “You’re selfish, arrogant and driven more to own than to partner. JJ is my partner in life. She loves and protects me the same way I love and protect her. You’re going to live a very lonely life if you don’t figure that out, Greenaway.”

Before Elle can respond a man in a baseball cap walks casually up to the two women, striking Elle in the back of the head with a gun. Emily starts to move towards him but he levels the gun at her. He grabs the stunned Elle, twisting her arm up behind her back. Emily stops. Albert Smith grins at Emily and shoves the gun under Elle’s chin.

“Open the door for us, bitch,” he orders Emily.

“You don’t need to do this, Albert,” she says calmly.

“Open the door or her brains will be scrambled.” He cocks the .38, shoving it tighter against Elle, making the woman wince.

Emily can only pray someone inside sees what’s going on as she opens the door so Albert can drag Elle inside with him.

“Good girl. Now stand in front of us. I like having two beautiful human shields,” he taunts.

Emily raises her hands, knowing someone will see the gesture and get what is going on. She sees Rossi and JJ heading across the bullpen. JJ grabs Rossi’s arm when she sees the deadly trio.

“Rossi!”

About the same time, several officers see what’s happening and draw their guns, taking cover behind desks to give the lunatic fewer targets. Albert hears JJ and turns towards her.

“You…you’re the one that took her!”

He swings the gun away from Elle. She realizes he’s going to shoot JJ just as Rossi does. Elle jabs an elbow back at him as Rossi shoves JJ to the ground. But Albert fires anyway and Emily hears, as if it’s the only sound in the room, JJ’s grunt of pain.

“JENNIFER!” She starts towards her wife but Albert’s scream stops her.

“NO ONE MOVES! NO ONE MOVES OR I KILL THE BITCH IN BLACK!”

Emily slowly turns and sees his gun is pointed right at her. She looks to Elle whose eyes are still foggy from the blow she took. A trickle of blood rolls down the side of her head.

“What do you need, Albert?” Emily asks with more calm than she feels.

“I want my sister.” He looks around until he sees Hotch. He swings his gun towards the chief. “You! You were one of the ones that took her. Bring her to me. Now!”

“She’s not here. She’s been taken to a psychiatric hospital in Tacoma,” Hotch tells him. He can only pray that Reid can keep Sally from running to Albert.

“Ta—Tacoma? Why the fuck did you take her there? I can’t protect her there! Bring her back. Bring her back NOW!”

Emily takes a step towards him. “Albert, she is really sick. The doctors there can make her well.” Emily knows she needs to get out of the line of fire if anyone is going to have a chance to stop Albert. Her moves are taking her closer to a desk. If she can get behind it only Elle will be in the way. And she knows the members of her team can make the shot needed to rescue the detective. “If you put the gun down we can take you to visit her. I’m sure she’d like that.”

“LIAR! I HATE LIARS!” Emily sees the gun swinging back towards her and dives towards the safety of the desk. She yelps in pain as her wounded side hits the ground a split second after Albert fires. She rolls into a ball, fighting the urge to throw up from the pain.

“That’s one of you down,” he taunts them, assuming his bullet caused the scream of pain. “Who’s next?” He shoves the gun under Elle’s chin again. “Maybe this one?”

“Kill me and they kill you. Sounds fair,” Elle taunts back.

Albert knows she is right. He tries to decide his next move.

* * *

 

Back in the interview room, Reid is trying to keep Sally calm.

“But I hear him! That’s Albert! Let me go to him! He’ll be so mad I left the house without him.”

“It’s…it’s not really Albert.”

“But I can hear him!”

“No, it’s…it’s one of the liars pretending to be Albert to trick you,” Reid improvises. He sighs with relief when he sees it working.

“Really?”

“Yes, Sally. I don’t want them to hurt you so we’ll stay here and be really, really quiet, okay? Then my friends can stop him.”

“Your friends like the other Derek Morgan?”

Reid smiles. “Yes, like the other Derek Morgan.” Sally calms down. Reid takes her hand and starts to talk to her. “You know, his name isn’t really Derek Morgan. He just envies me so much he pretends to be me sometimes.”

Sally frowns. “You mean he’s a liar, too? I can tell you how to stop that.”

Reid chuckles. “Uh, no, he’s not a liar. He’s just a silly little boy. He can be really scared sometimes and I’m so brave he just wants to be more like me. He’s also not as tough as me. He’s really a big wimp.”

“That poor man,” Sally says sympathetically.

“Yes. And when you see him again make sure you tell him it will be okay; that if he tries hard enough he can be just like me when he grows up.”

Sally nods eagerly. “I’ll do that. I’ll help him get better.”

About that time they hear the gunshot. Reid tenses and turns towards the door. Sally grabs his arm in fright.

“What…what was that?” she asks her voice quavering.

“I don’t know,” Reid says, praying for the safety of his friends.


	20. Chapter 20

Hotch has no idea what’s happened to JJ or Emily. Rossi is behind a desk, his gun trained on Albert. JJ still lays beside him on the floor. The fact that the best shot on the team, hell, perhaps in the FBI was not in shooting position has him beyond worried. When Emily dove, Albert had fired. Was her scream from the shot or the result of the previous wounds?

“Albert, there is no need for this to escalate any farther,” Hotch says calmly. “I will be happy to drive you to Tacoma myself. But you have to let Detective Greenaway go.”

“She doesn’t go anywhere until I see Sally. I WANT TO SEE SALLY!” he screams, shoving the gun tighter against Elle’s throat. The detective winces involuntarily.

Hotch whispers to Morgan, who stands beside him. “Morgan, start moving slowly to your right.”

Morgan does as Hotch orders. Albert’s attention goes to the dark agent.

“What are you doing? Stand still! I said STAND STILL!”

He swings his gun towards Morgan and a shot rips through his shoulder, sending him and Elle backwards. As they hit the ground, she rolls away from him. His right arm is useless, the bullet having shredded muscles and ligaments alike. Rossi is the first one to reach him, kicking away the gun Albert is trying to grab with his left hand.

“Go on, reach for it again,” Rossi threatens, his gun aimed at Albert’s head.

Hotch reaches Elle. “We need a medic! Easy, Elle. Anything other than the head injury?”

“N- -No. Well…maybe my pride,” she mutters.

Hotch smiles. He actually sees a spark of the old Elle behind the façade. Perhaps the former agent really is ready to get her life back on track. He turns to see Emily stumbling to her feet and racing for JJ.

“Je- -Jen!”

She gets to where the liaison lays on the floor and crumbles to her knees. “JEN! OFFICER DOWN! Come on, Baby, don’t you do this to me. Please, don’t do this to me.”

JJ’s head is covered in blood. Suddenly Rossi is beside the shaking Emily. “It’s a flesh wound, Prentiss. You know how head wounds bleed. The concussion from the bullet plus hitting the floor knocked her out. Emily, she’ll be okay.”

“Yeah. Okay. Sure,” Emily says breathlessly. Rossi lays a hand on her shoulder, knowing she won’t really be okay until JJ opens her eyes.

Nearby, Elle stares at Emily. She would never have believed the normally cool and controlled agent could be so shaken. Elle shifts her eyes to JJ. She swallows. It hurts her to see JJ injured. But in her heart she knows it doesn’t devastate her the way it does Emily. She turns and walks away from the woman she had really thought she loved.

Hotch had watched Elle’s face. He saw the realization dawn in her eyes. He hopes it’s the final break the woman needs to get on with her life. Elle looks up at Hotch.

“Nice shot, by the way.”

“Thanks,” he says. “Glad to see you knew what Morgan was doing and spun as I had the chance to shoot. Gave me more room for error.”

Elle actually laughs. “Not much room.” She tugs at the shoulder of her blouse, which has a burn mark from the bullet’s path.”

Hotch grins. “Well, every little bit helps, right?”

“Right,” she concedes as the EMT’s race past her to help JJ. She looks at Emily as Rossi helps her to her feet. “Uh, Hotch? Emily’s bleeding.”

Hotch sees it and moves towards his agent. It doesn’t escape his notice that Elle uses his nickname and Emily’s first name. She had once been a good law enforcement officer. Perhaps she would finally be again.

* * *

 

JJ’s eyes flutter open. Her head is pounding and the light above her is like a dagger to her brain. “Oh, shit that hurts,” she mumbles.

A hand reaches up and adjusts the light away from JJ’s face. JJ eases her eyes open again and stares into worried brown ones. “Hotch?”

“Good news, JJ, your head is harder than a speeding bullet,” he says with a grin.

“I’d laugh but it would hurt too much,” she mutters. “What the fuck happened?”

“Dave knocked you to the ground but the bullet grazed the side of your head. You’ve got a few stitches but your worst remnant will be the headache you’ll have the next couple of days. Good thing the weekend is almost upon us.”

“Yeah. Um, they didn’t shave my head did they?”

Hotch laughs. “Nope. Well, not much at least.”

“Great.” She looks around the room. “Hotch, where’s Emily?”

“When she dove behind a desk it popped the stitches in her side. She’ll be here once they finish re-sewing the wound.”

JJ grins. “Poor, Em. As much as she hates stitches to have to get them again has to be driving her crazy.”

“Not nearly as crazy as not being here when you woke up.”

“Yeah. So what happened to Albert?”

“He’s in surgery for the bullet he took.” Hotch gives her a smile. “Confidentially, it felt good to shoot him.” JJ chuckles. “Between Washington and California, he’ll never be a free man again. Sally is in the state mental hospital for evaluation. She’s got a lot of issues but hopefully she’ll finally get the help she needs while not under the thumb of a psychopath.”

“Hopefully,” JJ agrees.

“Jen?” Hotch turns and sees Emily and Rossi in the doorway. “Oh, thank God,” the woman breathes.

“Hi, baby. Heard you let a doctor practice his suturing on you again,” JJ teases.

Emily laughs. “Yeah. And I heard you tried to prove your head really is harder than a speeding bullet.”

JJ shakes her head. “Ah, that’s an old joke,” she slides a glance to Hotch.

“Damn, boss, you stealing my lines?”

“Obviously. Rossi, we need to go check on Smith’s status.”

“And leave these two alone to prove to each other they are okay,” Rossi says knowingly.

“Yeah, that, too.”

After the men leave, Emily approaches the bed. She takes JJ’s hand in her own and kisses it.

“When you didn’t reappear after going down I thought…” Emily shakes her head, unable to finish the thought. “I’m glad you’re okay, Jennifer. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Emily. I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

“We sound like a couple old broken records, don’t we,” Emily teases.

“Yeah, we do. We’ve got to come up with better ways to communicate.”

“I can think of one way,” Emily says softly, leaning down to give JJ a kiss. So much love and relief is packed into that one gesture. When it ends, Emily lays her forehead against JJ’s just basking in the love she has for and feels from her wife.

From the hallway, Elle watches the scene…then turns and walks away.

* * *

 

Reid had accompanied Sally to the psychiatric hospital. She is very scared.

“But I don’t know them, Derek,” she tells Reid.

He smiles kindly. “I know. But they are very good people. I trust them to take care of you and help you.”

“Are…are you sure?”

Reid nods. “Yes, I am.”

“Okay,” she finally concedes. “Derek? Can I send you pictures?”

“I would love that very much, Sally.” He pulls out his business card and hands it to her. “This is…this is my address and my assistant. He’ll make sure nothing happens to your pictures if I am out of town when they arrive.”

“Good. As soon as I can I’ll make a really pretty one for you.”

“I look forward to seeing it. And maybe next time I come out this way I can stop in to see you. Would that be okay?”

“Yes. You’re my friend, Derek. I like having friends.”

Just then Morgan walks up and claps Reid on the shoulder. He smiles at Sally, having heard the last thing she said. “Yep, Derek is a great friend to have around.”

“Yes, he is. And, other Derek, you’re not a silly little boy. You’re probably not a wimp either, you’re just scared a lot. I’m sure when you grow up you can be just like Derek, too.”

It takes all the power Reid possesses to keep from laughing, especially at the death look he gets from Morgan. The older agent looks back at the woman.

“Thanks, Sally. I’ll…keep that in mind.”

With a final goodbye, they leave to meet up with the others at the hospital JJ and Emily are being treated. In the parking lot, Morgan looks at Reid.

“Paybacks are hell, Pretty Boy. Remember that.”

Reid just smiles smugly as he climbs into the SUV.


	21. Chapter 21

The next day, Captain Abry meets the team at the airstrip.

 

“I can’t thank you enough for all you did and I can’t say sorry enough for all you went through. You’ve got a hell of a team, Agent Hotchner.”

Hotch nods, “Thank you, Captain Abry.”

“Um, about Greenaway. Am I doing the right thing by giving her another chance?”

Hotch considers all he knows about her, both the good and the bad. “She was once an integral part of this team. She did very good work. The shooting she experienced changed her, as it would anyone. Maybe we missed the signs telling us how much she was struggling; maybe we ignored them because she was our friend. Either way, I hope the person who comes back from rehab is more like the woman I knew before the shooting.”

Abry smiles and nods. “Me, too. Something tells me she’ll be more likely to follow orders then.”

Hotch laughs. “Then she would be nothing like the woman she was before the shooting.”

“I was worried you’d say that,” Abry says with a grin.

The two men shake hands and Hotch boards the plane. He sees JJ laying on the couch, her feet pointed towards the back so she can hold hands with Emily, who sits in the seat across the aisle. He had worried that their love could rip the team apart. As he sees them joking and laughing with the others he realizes it has only strengthened the bond this team has. A bond it never quite had with Greenaway. Yes, Prentiss was the perfect addition to this team, regardless of how she came to join it.

He stows his bag and lets the pilot know they are ready to go. It’s a long flight across the country and his plan is to sleep for as much of it as he can. He drops down into a seat, props his feet on the one across from it. Using his jacket as a blanket he closes his eyes.

* * *

 

After getting cursory paperwork done, Hotch dismisses the team for the day, including Garcia who may have gotten less sleep than everyone else combined. Her work had once again been exemplary and this time Hotch was going to make damn sure her file reflected that.

As often happened, Emily and JJ fight over who has to drive home. JJ finally comes up with the winning argument.

“But I have a concussion, baby. Do you really want me behind the wheel of your precious Lexus?”

“Oh, alright…I’ll drive this time.”

JJ smiles. Normally they fight over who gets to drive. Now it was a fight over who gets to rest on the trip home. Either way…JJ  _loves_  to win.

When they get home, Francesca opens the door and greets them with a smile and hug. “Oh, my cara’s, what am I going to do having to worry about you all the time?”

“Don’t worry, Francesca, most cases are not as crazy as this one,” JJ assures her.

“Yeah, I mean there was the time you got hit with a shovel and I was beaten by a cult leader, oh, and don’t forget when I jumped off the cliff in Alaska. But other than that..,” Emily trails off with a grin.

“Emily, if you scare away the nanny I will make your life a living hell,” JJ warns.

Emily laughs as Francesca gives JJ another hug. Just then happy gurgles are heard from the living room. JJ turns and sees Henry on his play mat. He is on all fours and rocking.

“Hey, Little Man! Did you miss me?”

As if in response he throws himself forward…and crawls towards his Mommy. Emily and JJ both gasp.

“Way to go, Champ!” Emily hollers, whipping out her cell phone to video his last few feet to JJ.

JJ sweeps him up into her arms. “Good boy, Henry!” She gives him a big kiss. “Mommy is so proud of you!”

“Mama thinks you’re pretty awesome, too, Champ!” Emily says giving him a kiss. She looks to Francesca. “When did that start?”

Francesca chuckles. “That was a first, Emily. He must have been waiting for his Mothers to come home.”

JJ eyes well up with tears. She had always worried about missing milestones. She is so thankful that she hadn’t missed this one.

“I love you, Henry. I love you so, so much.”

Emily smiles at Francesca. “How would you like the rest of the day off? I think we can handle him from here.”

She pulls Emily into a hug. “If you are sure, cara. Dinner is in the fridge. You just need to heat it up.”

“Francesca, you don’t have to make our dinner!” JJ tells her.

“I know, cara. But I enjoy it and it gives me something to do when Henry naps. Consider me your nanny, too.”

JJ chuckles. “Wow. Um, okay then. Thanks, Francesca.”

The older woman gives the mothers and Henry a kiss before heading next door to her apartment. Emily walks over and wraps the two blondes that mean the world to her in a hug.

“How about we get him tired out practicing crawling, then we all take a nap before dinner. I really want to hold you two for a while.”

“I think that sounds perfect. And then maybe you can tell me what the hell you did to Elle?”

“Do you really need to know?”

JJ stares into Emily’s eyes. She sees a flicker of shame in them. Finally she strokes a hand down her cheek. “Only if you feel the need to tell me. Otherwise I’ll just accept that, like you said, she’s still walking so it couldn’t have been too bad. And that whatever you did, you did for love.”

“Always, Jen. It will always be for love when it’s about you.”

She gives JJ a kiss…and gets a kiss on the cheek from Henry at the same time. Emily feels her heart may explode from the love she feels.

“I love you both so much, Jennifer Prentiss. You two are my world.”

“I know. And we love you, too, Emily Prentiss. Now,” she sets Henry down, “let’s get him practicing his new trick.”

Emily smiles and moves across the room so Henry can crawl back and forth to them, his cackles healing their wounds better than any medication ever could.


End file.
